Lovers Lost
by cmk1211
Summary: Three years after The Phantom lost his angel of music, the grief has become more than he can withstand. For a time caring for their son was enough to keep him going, but now the pressure of being a single father was more than he could bear. But he would try, for Gustave and for Christine. Can he become the man and father she envissioned him to be? Can love alone save them? If only.
1. Lovers Lost

Lovers Lost

Chapter 1

Christine's only family was her son, husband, and the silent shadow of a man that was her most beloved friend. A man she called her angel and held in her heart as the true sire of her child. Since her father's death and the passing of her once guardian Madam Velerius, Christine had been left without any relation in the world. She'd come to the opera house as a small girl and a ward to Madame Giry, an old friend of her father's. In her grief Christine had lived life in a haze. Days blurred together and she gave only the basest amount of effort to existing, until the angel of music had come to her.

From then on time seemed to fly by in a whirlwind of music and singing. Before she'd realized what happened she'd become a young woman possessed of all the feminine charms nature could bestow. It had not gone unnoticed, either by the now young man who'd been her childhood sweetheart or the angel/phantom who'd become her unearthly mentor. Christine had earned both their love and admiration, but soon a war ensued to win her favor. She'd been so young, inexperienced and afraid. All her life she'd acquiesced to the demands of others, and as consequence she became the pawn of men vying for dominance over her life and her voice. She'd also been a victim of her own inner turmoil.

Raoul fulfilled the need in her to have a safe love that was comforting and familiar, but there was a desire and restless longing building within her that her handsome suitor could not satisfy. Its power and heat scared her immensely. It was entangled with the passion she felt while singing, and demanded all the control she could muster to keep from exploding within her. She was too innocent to have understood what it was, but her angel had known, because that same desire burned inside him as well. It was an inferno whose intensity both attracted and terrified Christine.

When it had been revealed that her angel was a murdering monster obsessed with possessing her, the shock had been enough to send her running into Raoul's arms. But the fire within her continued to call to and yearn for her angel, and in the darkness of a moonless night she'd been his.

Christine found him, hiding from the police who were hunting the phantom. He'd been her first and she'd been his only, but when morning came he was gone. Feeling she had no one else to turn too Christine returned to Raoul and married him, keeping forever the secret of her true heart. She thought she would be happy, that things had happened just as they were meant to, but from her wedding day it became clear life wasn't going to make it easy.

Then a child had been born. A remarkable child whose otherworldly qualities told Christine all she needed to know about the man who'd fathered him. Raoul hadn't suspected anything. Although it hadn't been the loving consummation both had expected, their wedding night had been normal. An anxious groom and nervous bride coming together in a tender embrace, and she had even managed to produce the expected bleeding by pricking her finger on a needle and spreading the blood onto the sheets. But she had not been a virgin bride. When a few weeks later it became apparent that she'd conceived the cold reality that the child in all likelihood was that of her angel meant that a ghost always stood between Christine and Raoul.

There was no way for her to prove it, and her husband never suspected it since the timing was so close. But as she watched her amazing son grow it was obvious to her his true parentage. Thankfully he took after his mother in coloring and the general form and features of his face, but his eyes were something wholly foreign. Raoul hadn't been in the phantoms presence long enough to recognize those eyes, but Christine had, and it bolstered her certainty that Raoul was not the father. As the years progressed Christine could see the shadow of the man he would become.

With every passing day as he matured he was becoming more the mirror of her angel, and all doubt who his father was vanished. She kept the secret hidden, knew that its revelation would mean the dissolution of her marriage and the little stability they had. Her real shame wasn't in having conceived a child out of wedlock; it was that having some piece of her angel to hold made her so happy. She loved the child all the more for being HIS child, and as time passed and he became more like that man, Christine came to understand more the depth of love she'd harbored for her lost angel.

Most nights her husband as absent, having withdrawn to his study to drink until he passed out; he hadn't yet started getting inebriated in public due to his position as Vicomte, but when they left Paris for the heights of Monte Carlo he ceased to be concerned with appearances. So at night, when her son slept Christine allowed herself to remember his voice, his scent and his touch that she'd only felt for one brief night. It would always start out sweetly enough, leaving out the harshest and most difficult of memories until she had to face that he'd left her alone. Anger and pain would swell and choke her. If he'd have stayed with her so much would have been different.

Rumor had reached her in the first year of her marriage that the phantom was dead after a skeleton had been found in the catacombs of the Opera house. Christine couldn't help but grieve, and Raoul had not been ignorant for whom she mourned. It had hurt him badly and it was then that he'd started drinking. Christine had tried to give penance and be the doting wife she thought he'd needed, but nothing she did ever seemed to be the right thing. Soon she didn't recognize the man she'd married in the one she lived with.

There were moments, sweet and joyous, where they would both pretend enough to almost make it seem like everything was alright, but they passed too quickly. Neither had the strength to put up that front for too long, but still he loved her and despite the conflict in her heart she loved him in a way. Raoul tried to be an attentive husband at first, but nothing could make up for the contrast of passion she'd felt with the other. In time frustration kept them apart, but the responsibility he felt due to his position meant he never strayed and Christine devoted herself to being a faithful wife. Her guilt at not being able to give herself fully to him was matched equally by his guilt for not being able to provide all that his wife needed.

Christine found an outlet in caring for and loving her son, whereas Raoul found it in drinking and gambling. The Vicomte De Chagny was wealthy since the death of his older brother and the marriage of his sisters freed him from the duty of their care, but that didn't mean money was limitless. After years of chipping away at the family fortune, a series of bad bets left the small family on the verge of poverty. Raoul was a man of leisure, and had no career on which to fall back on. Christine, as the wife of a Vicomte, had rarely graced the stage in 10 years at her husband's behest. It was considered beneath them and improper for a lady of title to entertain the masses for money. But some remembered her triumphs as prima donna of the Paris Opera Populaire.

When they received an invitation from the American impresario Oscar Hammerstein to perform in NY for an obscene fee, and given their financial hardships they could do little more than accept. Their debts were swelling daily and without the influx of money they would soon be homeless. They boarded a ship and in NYC in two weeks, but had they known what awaited them they might never had dared the journey. Christine had believed her angel dead, and when he came to her that first night in their hotel room she had fainted from the shock. All the pain she'd buried with his memory and all the anger she'd harbored from his abandonment made her bitter. Even though she would never regret the one night they'd spent together she could not fathom ever accepting him again.

It had become quickly apparent that he'd been the one to bait and lure her across the sea for the purpose of ensnaring her heart and bending her again to his will. Her rational mind urged her to run, to take her family and retreat back across the ocean. But the heart within her that had been deprived for so long beat so loudly she could not deny it.

In the end the choice she made wasn't just to the music, she chose to follow her heart for the man she'd craved over a decade. The decision, made out of love and need, had been the final of her fateful life. She'd paid the final and ultimate price for music. Meg had turned the gun on herself. Erik had tried to coax the gun from Meg, but they struggled and it went off. The bullet found Christine, and in the arms of her true love with her son bathing her skirts in tears she received one last kiss before slipping into darkness.


	2. August 1908

CHAPTER 2 August 1905

The grey light of a summer morning barely cut the haze that night had left behind. Had the funeral been in France, a long procession of mourners would have filed out from the chapel on the De Chagny grounds. Those attending would have been the highest nobility of Paris, and the well-dressed nouveau riche of the upper class. People Christine, the Vicomtess De Chagny, had very rarely if ever associated herself with. Even her husband's siblings had shunned and avoided their brother's low born wife over the years.

At first the snubbing had made the Vicomtess shed silent tears at night into her husband's shoulder, but as the years progressed she learned to harden her heart against them. Christine even came to see her segregation as a mild blessing and she settled into a comfortable routine of caring for her son. Even as a cold resentment settled over her marriage, she still was comforted in her role as a mother.

The Vicomte had then decided that Christine's body would not return to the continent of her birth and his family mausoleum for burial. Instead she would be laid to rest in NY to be near to her son. Raoul had failed his wife in so many ways, he thought that this one courtesy was the least he could do. Perhaps he would erect a small memorial in her honor for the sake of appearances. He was sure there would be questions upon his return. Not many men in his position left with a family, and then returned without one. The papers would report enough of the story that he shouldn't have to elaborate much more. His heart was already too heavy to bear the burden of explaining these sordid events.

Raoul had never liked the smell of freshly turned earth, but after this day he'd always associate this one last sweet memory with it. The priest had already read the final lines of his blessing, and after having given final words to the widowed husband and motherless son he retreated back to the rectory. Silently two men, two women and a boy were left to watch the grave was be filled. Two wreaths of roses were placed by the marble headstone, one of crimson and the other of white, representing the sentiments of their donors.

Everyone had shed tears at this final parting, but as it all came to a close only the soft whimpers of a young boy could be heard. Gustave stood between the two towering figures of men on each side of him. He turned to neither for comfort or reassurance because he didn't know to whom he could turn. So much had happened and been revealed that the boy was beyond confused. To his left was the man to whom he'd looked to for all his life, but still somehow missing the mark of attention, affection, and love. To his right stood a man he'd only met days before. He was both frightening and enticing, mysterious, menacing and miraculous, and even before his mother had revealed that this was his real father Gustave had found a kinship with him that went beyond anything he'd ever felt or known. The revelation had been bitter sweet, as in one fell swoop his beloved mother had been taken away and this strange man had been dropped into his life.

"What happens now?" asked the child, not directly addressing either man. It was his new father that answered with a sad voice, not turning to see the boy's reddened eyes or reveal his own watery ones.

"Go to the carriage Gustave and I'll join you shortly. The Vicomte and I have things to discuss." The boy hesitated only a moment before complying. With heavy steps he headed toward a very tall gangly man and a very small dwarfish woman who waited obediently for their master. When the child had left ear shot the younger of the two men spoke.

"Legally he is mine, and I have raised him." stated Raoul flatly.

"I hope you don't propose to think you'll be leaving here with my s…" accused Erik.

"I KNOW, Uh, I understand that although there is no way for us to be sure it seems obvious that you and the boy share a certain kinship." Erik gave a mocking chuckle, but Raoul ignored him as he tried to get through this difficult encounter. "BUT, legally he still belongs to me." Erik's hackles began to rise at the implication. "So I suggest that although he lives here with you, that he retain my name and the benefits of my title. Upon my death all that I have left will still pass on to him as I have no intention of marrying again. I know there are things you can give him that I cannot. I require only that I be allowed to remain in contact with him, and perhaps see him if and when I return to the states. It might make the transition easier for him to have some connection to the familiar."

A long silence ensued as Erik considered the Vicomte's words. His first instinct was to arrange for the wretched man's disappearance. In a city like NY such little favors were easy to contrive, but for the sake of the boy he knew was his son Erik had to think more like a parent and less like a phantom. Anyway, it had been a long time since he'd entertained such evil thoughts. Although he'd never achieved a feeling of fidelity with his fellow man, he loathed the idea of ending another's life, not that he ever relished it. In his eyes each life he'd taken had been out of necessity and for survival. Now he'd learned enough about the value of life to respect another's right to live, even a tortured existence.

Erik would never stop blaming Raoul for the tragedies of his romance with Christine. If it hadn't been for the handsome fop imposing himself on her, she and Erik's relationship would have progressed naturally. They would have spent the rest of their lives together, a life rich in love and music. Their children, a concept Erik had only recently considered, would have been the best reflection of their mother's talent and beauty, and their father's genius and tenacity. It was a dream that would never be realized.

"Agreed. When you return to your rooms you'll find your bags prepared for your departure and a ticket for your return journey to France. Payment has been remitted to your European accounts and a purse has been placed amongst your belongings for the onboard passage." Raoul turned one last time to look at his long time masked nemesis. Normally he'd be only be feeling a mix of menace, fury and revulsion, but today a small part of him felt they were compatriots in their grief. Raoul felt himself just as responsible for Christine's death as this man.

Raoul's only remaining trepidation was about leaving the child with this once murderer and phantom, but glancing in the boy's direction and seeing the long limbed, dark haired and wild eyed child looking back at him withered his apprehension. Where once there had been a gap, now lay a chasm. He did love Gustave, but that feeling had always been measured. Had there been some part of him that had known it wasn't his child? Would it have made a difference? If so, it was Christine's own sin that had condemned her and them.

Regardless, there was no changing what had happened or what had to be done. Raoul felt cold and numb about the entire situation. Even his anger had drained away leaving an emptiness that he feared would never be filled. This is where the boy belonged, for better or worse. Without another word the Vicomte turned towards the young boy that stood looking on. It was hard for him to recognize what he felt as he looked at the young man he'd thought was his own flesh and blood for a decade.

"Gustave, I'll be returning to France today. You'll be remaining here with… well, with your father. I'll write to you, and I hope you'll write me back." The Vicomte dropped to one knee before the boy and gave him a tentative hug.

"Will I ever see you again?" asked Gustave. Raoul looked into the child's eyes, seeing for the first time how much they were like the other. He'd been so blinded by his own selfishness and arrogance that he'd never noticed what was now so obvious. He felt there was no place for him in the life of this brilliant and haunted child. If only Raoul had been the kind of father and husband he'd needed to be all along things might be different.

"I would like that Gustave." He gave the child one last embrace before rising and heading off down the lane. That would be the last time Gustave would see the Vicomte De Chagny. When the retreating man had disappeared, the boy turned to find the man that was now his entire world and future standing beside him. Erik had watched the sullen exchange between the boy and his one-time rival with tepid anxiety. Now Gustave would be looking to him to be the father he needed, and the father Christine believed he could be.

Looking down into his son's piercing eyes made him feel the full weight of that responsibility. He'd never dared to imagine that someone as hideous as he would ever have a lover let alone a child. He never had and never would pray to god, but he now had a real angel that he hoped was looking down on these two weeping souls. He asked her to guide his hand and heart in raising their child.


	3. The City

Chapter 3 The City

Big cities are so dirty, and none are bigger or dirtier than NYC. There's no place you can go to escape it. Even along the sandy beaches of Coney Island and the rocky shores of Long Island the refuse from the city was always washing up. Bodies, trash, but every now and then something interesting would appear. Gustav couldn't swim, but he would venture down to the water's edge most mornings and peruse the flotsam left behind by the tide. It's the closest he dared get to the murky depths. He wouldn't step foot on the long pier that jutted out into the shallows either, as much due to fear as to the pain of memories.

It was on the pier that a mad woman had tried to drown him, and where his mother had breathed her last. His father had battled for the gun, but it went off in the struggle striking his beautiful mother. He relived those moments so often it was like a picture show in his head. In his dreams the melodic sound of his mother's singing would morph grotesquely into that final scream.

Even amidst the painful recollections and the urban grime the call of the city was its own music. When Gustave had first arrived in the bustling metropolis it was all dancing lights and alien noises, a world so different from any he had ever known that every sense was excited and his curiosity was peeked to an all-time high. His enthusiasm for taking in every sight was more than his parents could handle, and it wasn't long into their voyage across the Atlantic before his father's annoyance reached its zenith.

"Damn it Gustave! Can't you keep quiet and still for 1 minute." bellowed the red-eyed man from across the small table in their small cabin. Gustave had no shortage of questions, and even though he knew the end result would be the backlash of his father's frustration the boy couldn't help but ask every one that popped into his brain. For him, any attention from his father was better than being utterly ignored.

In contrast his mother showed endless patience, though the lines on her face and puffiness of her eyes betrayed her own worried and anxious mind. Even through strenuous times such as these, Gustave always felt her love as a palpable aura that exuded from her. It allowed him to feel safe and warm in her presence. His father on the other hand gave none of that affection, but there were times, strange moments, where the man would look at his son with curious eyes. He'd stare for a long moment into the deep eyes that were so foreign, taking in the boy's pale skin, his raven hair and shape of the face. The man was looking for something, but what it was the boy never knew though he was sure his father hadn't found it by the disappointed way he'd break contact.

His mother would often sweep in to rescue both of them from these awkward moments. She always seemed to be hovering like a fly on the wall whenever Gustave and his father interacted so that they were never alone together. His parents had argued so much on the ship, aggravated by the close quarters and nowhere to escape each other. Money was the main topic for debate, but his father's arrogance about having his wife perform for strangers was a strangling grip on his ego.

It amazed him how much he remembered from those times, especially that last crossing. Had he known the terrible climax of their journey would rob him of his beloved mother he would have gladly stayed in France, but such thoughts didn't gain anything for him.

Gustave had his father to think of now. Not the angry and bitter man who'd raised him for the first decade of life under the façade of father, but the man who now was his only living relative in all the world. The man who had become the kind of friend and confidant that Gustave always knew a father should be. He might have lost the blissful cocoon of his mother's love, but the love and adoration his true father bestowed on him was enough to keep despair at bay, mostly. If only his father could feel the same comfort from the boy that worshiped him.

Before that fateful trip to NYC, Gustave lived in the French countryside with his mother Christine Daae and the man he'd thought was his father, Raoul Vicomte De Chagny. Although they'd been married it was still his mother's habit to use her maiden name, but it often annoyed his father. Despite the increasing neglect from the Vicomte, Gustav's mother was affectionate and doting. She'd taught him how to read music and play the piano. She'd sing to him in the angelic voice that had made her the greatest leading soprano to grace the Paris stage.

Gustave had never seen her perform at the Opera Populaire. His mother retired after having married the Vicomte, but when she'd sing for him he'd imagine an audience of hundreds applauding her talent. Her eyes would sparkle with the memory of those long lost days, as well as something dark and sad. He hadn't understood then the deep well of sorrow that mixed was with her euphoric singing, but now he knew a lot more of the story. His father, his real father, had been her great teacher from when she was a small child and came to live at the Opera house. He'd led the progress of her career until the Vicomte had come to sweep her away. It had been a tragic love affair between teacher and student, whose end he'd witnessed here on Coney Island.

Since then he'd said good bye to the Vicomte and with his blessing gone to live with his true father. Gustav loved his father and together they shared so much in thought and attitude that he always felt at home with him. At first the simpatico relationship they shared was enough to soften the blow of loss for both of them, but in time grief and loneliness began to widen a gap between them. His father no longer composed, and only listened halfheartedly to those melodies Gustav produced. Every day he became more withdrawn, giving the little bit of energy he had left to encouraging Gustav's study's and spending time together.

It had been 3 years since his mother died, and he'd even begun to neglect Phantasma, the amusement park his father operated on NY's infamous Coney Island. If his time wasn't taken up with Gustav, it was mostly spent writing in his journals or holed up in their Long Island home at the sanctuary he'd built for Christine. A gloom had settled into their lives as a result of grief. He would sometimes spend long hours alone replaying his unfinished compositions, without rest or food until finally collapsing from exhaustion. Having no hope of ever hearing his angel sing again his father had lost all inspiration.

Gustav was now 13 years old and filled with the excited disquiet that was expected of boys approaching the dawn of manhood. The draw of the city often led him to wander its streets. His father didn't like him to be away from home long, but he was gone more and more. He'd been taught the basics of self-defense, how to wield a sword and handle a gun, he even kept a dagger hidden on his person. Sebastian, the sword swallowing, knife throwing aficionado that had become a star act of Phantasma had taught Gustav. As was nearly always the case, the boy proved to be quite adept, even learning to juggle sharp instruments 5 at a time.

Despite its constant grime Gustav found the city enchanting. Its symmetry and artistry could be seen in every concrete balustrade and soaring edifice. Very little of the cities Dutch history remained and over the last century it had become a mecca of art, industry, invention, crime and debauchery. April was coming to a quick close, and Gustav adored seeing the stark contrasts in NY's richness and poverty as activity in the city picked up with the mild temperatures.

He would walk from street to street without regard for the criminal element, absorbing the experience of being a part of the great town. But unbeknownst to him several undesirables had begun to take notice of his movements. Not far from the Brooklyn borough he walked a street in a derelict and run-down neighborhood that had once been wealthy. Dusk was about to fall and he needed to hurry if he was to make it home before the sun disappeared behind the horizon.

It should have set off his senses when he noticed that the lane was empty of the homeless you expected to see in such a place. The entirety of the block on the west side was covered by a high stone wall edged by a thin broken sidewalk. The neglected stone work had ivy creeping out of every crack and the tops of trees had begun to overflow from the bulwark.


	4. Through the gate

CHAPTER 4 Through the Gate.

The hairs on the back of Gustave's neck began to tingle and stand on end before he heard the first set of footsteps fall in behind him, growing steadily louder as they gained. Then another joined them, and then a third set. He'd nearly broken into a run when hands violently pushed him to the ground. Gustave landed hard on the pavement face first, scraping his chin painfully. He tried to get up right away but was stopped by a swift kick to the ribs. The sound of laughter whirled around as he fought the dizziness that filled his head. As the world came back into focus, three long shadows circled above him.

"Are you lost little man?" said a roughly accented voice.

"It's not safe for little rich boys round here kid." came another from above him.

"Ain't it the truth Bobby ole boy, too bad for you kid but good luck for us? I'm sure daddy doesn't let you out without a bit of pocket money." said the third.

"True nuff Nicky; now let's see what sonny boys got for us." The thug bent down to start rifling through the boy's pocket, but in that moment Gustave was able to reach the knife that was hidden just inside his breast pocket. He swiped the blade at the man's searching hands and made a long gash down the forearm from elbow to wrist.

The thief yelped in pain and staggered back. It gave enough of a distraction for Gustave to stand up and make an attempt to run, but another of the men lunged at him and pinned him against an old rusty iron gate. The man's hands locked around his throat and Gustav thought he was about to join his mother. Then the man's eyes began to grow wide as they glimpsed something beyond the gate. He released the boy and leapt back, knocking clumsily into his bloodied confederate.

"RUN, it's the harpy! Run boys, she can have the kid!" and all three turned tail and bolted up the road. Gustave spun around, searching the darkness of a densely overgrown garden beyond the Iron Gate. He made sure to brandish his bloodied knife to look as imposing as possible. He saw nothing. A strange mist was hovering in the stillness of the jungle. Just then the floating particles swirled around an emerging form.

It was black except for the round orb where a face should be. Gustav wasn't like other young men. He'd seen grotesqueness that most people ran from, but he'd been able to accept it and find the beauty underneath. He didn't flinch or run as the image began to resolve itself. He saw no harpy, but he understood how a passerby might be frightened by it.

A woman now stood flush against the iron of the gate. She wore a midnight blue cloak that covered all but her face, a face that was far from being harpy like. Except for that of his mother's, it was the most beautiful face he'd ever recalled seen. Above high cheek bones her eyes sparkled like emeralds against a lightly tanned oval face. Her lips were full and pleasantly shaped, pouty as if she was ready to receive a kiss.

Gustave couldn't guess her age, for it seemed as the mist danced around her features they looked at once old then suddenly young again. It was an amazing visual effect. He was overcome with a floating feeling that infused his mind and kept him hypnotized staring back at the woman.

"You're a brave little one. Don't I scare you?" said a deep feminine voice that poured over his skin like warm water after a cold snowy day. He had to swallow hard before trying to respond.

"You're not scary at all. I've seen much worse than you." He tried to sound brave, but his reply was shaky. He concluded that it must be the shock of the attack, but the longer his eyes stayed linked with the strange woman the more strongly they gripped him.

"Really, where?" the silky voice became excited, as if hungry for information. Gustav found he was equally eager to feed both their curiosities. He took slow steps to stand directly in front of the woman. He'd sprouted since his last birthday and begun that fearsome conversion from boy to man, but he was still slightly shorter than she by a few inches. It was less than the near foot with which his father towered over him. Whenever the man was cross he would use the advantage of height to intimidate, not just his son but anyone he considered subordinate, as if the mask wasn't enough to subjugate anyone who saw him.

"Well, Coney Island. That's where I live." He volunteered in the trusting way children often responded to beautiful strangers, regardless of possible danger.

"Wonderful! Do you speak of the freak show? Oh, it's been so long since I've been there, so many years ago." A shadow passed across her face, but was gone as quickly as it had come. He nodded once in response. The woman regarded him with her jewel eyes. She was making a decision, and when it was made she grinned wide revealing a sparkling smile.

Gustav couldn't help but smile back, until unseen hands unlocked the gate and it swung inward. She seemed to disappear as the world of the garden was opened. Without considering the risk or consequences the boy stepped over the threshold. This woman may not be the kind of harpy he'd read about in fairytales, but there was something about her that drew him in. She reemerged from the overgrown brush to his right.

"We should get you cleaned up. Maybe you'd like some tea, and you can tell me more about Coney Island? Maybe I'll tell you a few stories of my own. Come along, my name is Lisa. What's yours?" she asked.

"Um, I'm Gustav Destler." As the gate clanged shut behind him he finally felt a shard of unease pierce him. The woman noticed. From the folds of her cloak appeared one delicate hand extended to touch his face while the other carefully took his hand. Gustave shivered as she touched him. He felt the glimmer of a long ago comfort he'd nearly forgotten. Despite being an intelligent and well-reasoned individual, he had an overwhelming feeling that he should trust this person in spite of only having just met her.

Gustave's mother had told him before that his heart would always recognize those people who were part of his story. She encouraged him always to trust his heart and not let the preconceptions of his head rule his judgment. It was advice that had guided him these past years and helped his faith that things with his father would work out.

The woman led him through the dense over growth and waning fog. The waning sunlight of the late afternoon barely made a difference in the garden, especially in the shadow of a large edifice that emerged from the trees. It was clear that they were headed for it and within a few seconds they'd reached the door. The building reached up as far as Gustav could see. The boy turned away to glance behind, but the jungle of plants had closed in behind them and he doubted that he'd be able to find his way back if he ran. The sound of a door being opened drew his attention back. She was looking at him again with that smile and it made most of his anxiety dissipate, but not all.

"Don't worry; you'll leave here in a better state than when you arrived and through the front door." She had leaned over and whispered to him like she was giving a secret. "I think you're special, like me, and I don't meet many others who are special." The close proximity made his skin prickle.

Beyond the door a full and welcoming light revealed a long wide hallway. Lisa had stepped inside and waited for him to follow. The moment he crossed the doorway it seemed a barrier had been breached and he'd passed the point of no return. Lisa closed the door lightly and led him down the long corridor.

The walls were papered in a light blue color, making one feel as though they floated in a cloudless sky. They passed a few doors before emerging onto a large open foyer. Gustav gaped at the wide stair case that emanated from the center of the space. He realized he'd been admitted into a mansion, or maybe even a hidden castle. From where they stood one hall extended to the rear of the building, and two others extended to the right and left to what must be the east and west wings. It was obvious the residence was large. He stood transfixed looking about the area. Lisa had to come back to collect his hand and lead him away.

"I'll give you a tour some other day, but it's late and I'm sure you'll be expected home soon." They crossed into the far hall across the foyer and she led him through a door. A fire crackled gently in the fireplace and gave light to a well-furnished sitting room. It was a comfortable salmon color in here and felt as homey as the French cottage he'd shared with his mother, making him feel a pang of homesickness.

A wide assortment of couches, loveseats and cushioned chairs were scattered about the area. Some were circled around tables, while others faced windows. At first glance one might have thought an assembly of people was sitting amongst the furnishings because there was an odd fullness to the area, like that of a busy restaurant.

Lisa immediately headed to a set of high backed chairs that were gathered in front of the hearth. Embraced by an ornate armchair sat an old woman whose face lit up with the light of a thousand suns at seeing Lisa. She wore a pastel turquoise taffeta dress. Its sleeves covered her arms to the wrist and the skirts were deeply pleated from waist to floor. A light lace shawl was draped over her shoulders, which was covered by a wealth of silver hair that hung freely to frame her face.

"My dear, where have you been? I never like it when you go traipsing about the grounds like a phantom." Lisa leaned forward and accepted an affectionate peck on both cheeks. "Don't be like that Mama; you know I have to stretch my legs every now and then."

"But I know it's better than always being trapped in here. Oh, now who is this?" it had taken the old woman a moment to register Gustav's presence, but far from being alarmed she greeted him with another radiant smile very much like Lisa's.

"Today I've made a new friend, this is Gustav Destler. May I introduce my mother, Mrs. Gloria Aguilar" She said.

"How do you do madam?" Finally calling upon the manners and charm he'd been taught, Gustav gave her a deep bow and brought one soft wrinkly hand to his lips. She smelled like sweet peppermint and it teased his nose pleasantly.

"Your given name is Swedish, and your surname is welsh I believe, but your accent is French. How did that come about young man?" she asked.

"My mother was Swedish and I am named after her father, but my father was French." He hesitated only slightly before continuing. "And I was raised in a chateau at Perros before coming to America." His father had no idea what he'd been called at birth, if his mother had even deigned to name him. He had told Gustave that he'd acquired the moniker of Erik Destler via his travels. After the death of Gustave's mother, his father had actually given him the choice of what name he'd like to use. For Gustave, there was no need to debate and he'd chosen Gustave Daae Destler.

He was his father's son in blood as much as in spirit, attitude and affection as well, an affection that had always been lacking in his relationship with the Vicomte. Although his father had said it was of little importance to him, Gustave caught the look of prideful satisfaction when he'd chosen to use Destler.

"Oooohhh, and why did your family come here?" She asked.

"Why don't you have a seat Gustave, and I'll get my things to clean your wound while madam interrogates you." Lisa left them sitting in matching chairs before the fire.

"Wounded? What?" Mrs. Aguilar produced a pair of spectacles from the folds of her dress to examine him.

"I had a run in with some hooligans in the street, but Ms. Aguilar was able to help me escape them." He explained.

"No, no. Lisa's last name is Faolan. She was married once, but Charles died many years ago, along with my Armando. But never mind that, only ever call her Lisa as she prefers. I want to hear about you now, we get so few visitors. What are your parents' names?" The old woman's open acceptance and affectionate manner were as effective as any truth saying drug would have been. Gustav only hesitated briefly before he found himself unloading his life story with very little argument.

"My mother's name was Christine Daae." He said.

Lisa had returned within moments and she had attended to the abrasion on his skin, cleaning it with a stinging ointment and covering it with a small bandage. Gustav could only stare at her as she worked. The dark cloak had been shed, and to his astonishment she wore a pair of trousers underneath, with a man's shirt that billowed out around her arms.

Her hair was a reddish-brown color that shimmered in the light of the fire as if it had caught the embers and was alight. It was twisted into a long thick braid that rested on her shoulder. On her feet were very feminine slippers to contrast the rest of her attire. It was not the kind of day wear anyone would see on the street, but she wore it audaciously. It took the old woman several attempts at clearing her throat before he returned his attention to her and began answering her questions.

"Oh?" the old woman's thin eyebrows furrowed for a moment as she processed the name. Gustave's heart thudded for a moment as he feared her recognition. "Yes, yes. I remember it from the papers when she died tragically. I'm so sorry my dear boy. She was quite the gifted singer as I recall."

Normally the pity of others regarding his mother's death would annoy and anger him, but the look she gave made him welcomed the sympathy. Her eyes were the same striking green as Lisa's, dulled only by a life more full of joy and sorrow but no less alive and seeking. He'd cried enough childish tears that he felt dried up of all the emotion from the loss, but even still his eyes moistened.

"Thank you for your kindness. I do miss her terribly. Since then I've lived here in NY with my father. We have a home on Long Island, and he manages Phantasma on Coney Island." He explained proudly.

"But I thought Madam Daae's husband returned to France, the Vicomte De Chagny." asked Lisa. All the blood immediately drained from the boy's face. He'd forgotten that the grisly and personal details of the event had been in all the papers. Under the women's expectant gaze Gustav squirmed in his seat. He'd never discussed the experience of seeing his mother die with anyone, and it was still a subject he hoped never to relive.

"The Vicomte was my mother's husband, but he was not my father." He said shyly, and then stammered. "I really should be getting home. It will be dark before I get there and father will be upset." The women exchanged curious looks, but pressed him no further.

He had spoken very little to anyone about his parents and the turn of events his life had taken. It always seemed that the presumptions of some and prejudice of others, especially those associated with his real father, meant that parties interested in his story were usually for salacious purposes. Gustave felt no ulterior motive from the pair of women as he inspected their lovely faces one more time. He saw just the honest curiosity of someone wanting to know him, and it had been so long since he'd felt like someone understood his feelings on the subject.

It was one of his father's failings that, although he was always open to hear what Gustave was thinking, he didn't usually have a way to empathize with his son. The result was that with his mother's absence the yearning to be known and understood the way a child desires had welled up inside. It made his heart ache and fill with loneliness. Being now in the company of Lisa and Mrs. Aguilar, he felt as peaceful as he ever had since his mother's death.

"Of course, I'll show you out. I'm sorry to have kept you, but it really was a pleasure in having you visit with us." said Lisa. "Perhaps you can come again? I'm sure momma would like it."

"Yes, yes. Please come again my child. We could have such fun. Lisa might even show you where the fairies live." She whispered, giving him the kind of playful wink that children were certain to respond to.

"Momma, please behave yourself." Chastised the younger woman, but Mrs. Aguilar gave the boy a mischievous smile that he found endearing. "Follow me darling."

He said his farewell to Mrs. Aguilar and Lisa led him back to the foyer. They exited out a pair of doors onto a gravel path just as overgrown as the rest of the garden. It led down to a larger wrought iron gate that Lisa opened with a set of keys kept in her pocket. He turned around to glimpse her several times as he walked up the road towards home.

The front gate faced the western setting sun as it poured down the lane and shone on her like a flame while she watched him walk away. It was ethereal, and Gustav knew that come hell or high water he'd return to the house hidden in the jungle as soon and as often as he could.


	5. A Life Less Ordinary

Chapter 5 A life less than ordinary

"Where the devil could he be?" exclaimed the shadow. "Can he really think it acceptable to disappear into the city whenever he likes?" a fist slammed down on the Broadwood piano, making the wires inside vibrate an ominous chord. Dusk had fallen, and the grey light of evening was giving way to the blackness of night. The shadow moved nervously across the open window, looking out again to see if anything moved up the driveway. Squelch did his best to blend into the wall nearest to the door. He hadn't been dismissed yet, but he wanted to make his retreat quickly when it came.

"Master, I'm sure he's just a little tardy. Maybe if we just give him a little more time…" squeaked Miss Fleck.

"NO! Gather everyone together. No one will rest until he's safe at home." ordered the shadow.

"Yes master." Came three unanimous replies, and with muffled shuffling the loyal subjects withdrew to leave their master to his misery. He continued to pace the room, caught between his anger and the fear for his one and only son.

The boy could be hurt, dead, or have run away. He couldn't be sure which would be worse. He was ready to fly from the house himself and hunt on his own when someone tentatively entered the room. They moved slowly forward until they stood on the other side of the piano across from the shadow. A small electric lamp rested on the instrument, its light greatly dulled by an oppressiveness that filled the room. Only when standing within a couple of feet was it able to reveal the two figures.

"I'm sorry I'm late father. I had an accident in the street, but I'm fine now." said a mousey voice, made all the more smaller by his anxiety. The shadow stood silent for several moments, the battle inside vanquished by waves of relief.

"What accident Gustave? Tell me now." His voice wasn't harsh, it was imploring. This was his only son and if he was lost there wouldn't be anything left to live for, but everything to die for. Anything and everything he'd ever cared for waited for him across the gossamer bridge of death, and it was only this boy that kept him from crossing it in flames. He circled the piano, placed his hands on the boy's shoulders and looked down into his eyes. The boy looked back, not with fearful but with sorrowful eyes. He could only imagine the kind of torment he'd subjected his poor father to by his lateness.

"Nothing really, I tripped on the sidewalk. There was a nice woman who saw me and bandaged my chin. I would like to go back there soon and thank her properly." He petitioned carefully.

"Why, what have they asked of you?" questioned the father.

"Nothing, they were just very kind to me and invited me to come back for some tea." explained the boy.

"They?"

"Ur… Yes, it was a woman and her elderly mother."

"Perhaps you should spend more time closer to home, and these kind of… accidents might not happen." warned the man, fingering a patch of dirt that had smeared the boy's jacket just above his rib.

"Oh please, I promise to be more careful. It won't happen again, I swear." There wasn't anyone else left in the world who could either sway or cajole the man into making decisions, except for the child he treasured more than any life, even his own. The man sighed deeply and nodded his consent. The smile that lit the boy's features soon received the rare sight of a grin from his father. It seemed the only pleasure he could derive in life any more was in pleasing his son.

"I think perhaps I should call off the manhunt before every freak on Coney Island starts prowling the NY streets." He made a move to leave the room, but Gustave caught his hand.

"No need, I saw Mr. Gangle on the way up. Father, would you play mother's song for me?" asked the boy. The stab of pain that appeared on his father's face wasn't unexpected, and neither was it his intention to hurt the man. One of the few things that still brought them together was sharing that one piece of music, but more and more Gustave had been denied. When it was played, for just a moment in time, it was like she was there with them again living and singing. For the boy the experience was sweet, but for his father it had become increasingly bitter and painful.

The man gave his son a pained grin, reluctantly consenting and moving to sit on the piano bench. Gustave followed and settled next to him, trying not to allow his eagerness to overshadow moment. The melody began softly, like the waves of the ocean caressing the shore on a calm and clear spring day. Slowly but surely it grew as the tide of emotion swelled. It filled every sense and stroked the soul. Gustave knew better then to sing the accompanying words, but he couldn't help the compulsion to start humming. Just when its warmth had touched his heart it abruptly ended.

His father was quietly sobbing beside him. The strain of the day coupled with the well of grief within him had overflowed. Gustave tried to reach out and embrace him, but he arose quickly and withdrew into the darkness of the room where the lamplight didn't reach. The boy sat bereft, feeling once more that he'd failed for his sake and his fathers. He got up and headed to the door, muttering offhandedly that he would get something to eat from the kitchen than go to bed.

When the door closed it landed like a thunk in the man's chest, echoing with the empty void inside him. Christine had told him that all he needed to do was love and live for their son. But the stark reality was that he didn't know how. He'd never had a taste of normalcy or family. He had no notion of how to express the love he held for his son and felt negligent in his failure.

His romance with Christine had been very brief and raucous. It hadn't had to stand the test of time. It had started out as a kind of friendship, but limited to the relationship of teacher and student before blossoming into an obsessive infatuation. Now there was a tense standoff between his son and himself. There was Gustave, needing him while his father squirmed like a fly caught in wax. Would he have been better off with the Vicomte, that lazy lie about who'd gambled away his family's fortune? No, he would never have been able to let the boy go. He was the only person in the world left there was any connection to, as well as being the man's hear.

The once phantom had built a substantial fortune since arriving in America, and not just from the park, freak show and theater that were his first ventures. He'd also invested in the railroad, tobacco, and acquired interest in both overseas and locally commodities. He purchased land in NY, Canada and the Caribbean, hoping to retire one day to a tiny island nation, awash in the light he'd so long been denied. His was a shadow empire whose foundation he wanted to ensure would stand strong for a very long time so that his son and his children would not face financial struggles. Whereas the thought of future generations might stir another man, he saw it as a world still far beyond him.

If Christine had still been alive, she would have guided him into a bright future for them all and taught him how to give and receive love. But without her his heart had finally begun to shut down, it did not burn as it once had even when he was deprived of her voice. His senses and imagination had dulled, making him a pale reflection of the artist he'd been.

For a time he and Gustave had bonded over the management and development of Phantasma. Now it had become more of a hobby for him, no longer the focus of his financial stability. Besides, the tragedy and scandal of Christine Daae's death had resulted in a rush of attendance to the park. People were hungry to be exposed to a world where death and danger were just a stage away, kept safely behind a glass partition or tethered to a leash. The draw was inexplicable, and the man found it despicable on some level, but it afforded him the opportunity to collaborate with his progeny.

For a time father and son worked together to give attendees unearthly music to accompany the otherworldly creatures they featured. His freaks danced and paraded for the masses, thrilling the little boys and beguiling the little girls while spellbinding the parents into a state of grim fascination. With Gustave's input, his father had completed projects for rides and attractions that awestruck park goers.

In that first year it kept a smile on Gustave's face, only periodically tempered by the grim memory of his mother's passing. For the man it was both torturous and ruinous. So much of his soul had been wrapped up with the love of his life that she'd become the driving force of his dreams and fantasies. It was her voice that had been the pulse of his existence. Now that voice had been smothered forever and a dead silence had taken its place.

He did love his son, who neither blamed nor accused him of guilt in what had happened. Regardless, he felt set adrift on an unknown sea with the responsibility of keeping his son afloat without the aid of a preserver. He didn't pray to god, but he prayed every moment of everyday to his angel of music to save them both. Thus far there'd been no answer, and his will to go on dwindled with each passing moment.

He poured all that was left of his hopes and desires into his son, but he saw with each passing day that coldness was seeping into the young man's spirit. All the promise and potential was in danger of being sucked into darkness, the same darkness that had been a mark of the phantoms existence. He could not allow the burden of his cursed life to weigh upon Gustave, but he couldn't see the way to stop it.

The man let his head hang against his chest, feeling defeated. How could he fix the situation? He understood the boy was searching for something to inspire, someone to lead him. He sympathized with the wanderlust that infected someone of his age, but he couldn't come up with a way to deal with it.

He felt so inadequate, nameless and faceless. His upbringing and adolescence as a circus freak had been anything but normal. As far back as he could remember he'd been treated like an animal, beaten into submission whenever his willful nature asserted itself. At Gustave's age the man recalled being chained, tortured, and punished for his constant attempts to escape and violent tendencies towards his handlers.

As for any healthy examples of loving family or caring role models he had none. The closest he'd ever come to connecting with another creature emotionally was the friendship he'd had with a stray cat that followed the troupe across country. The animal would often crawl into the dirty hay bed where it slept curled up against his flank. It was the only physical contact he'd had with another living thing that didn't involve pain and humiliation.

Now, as a grown man somewhere in his forties, the man still didn't have a context from which to deal with the basest of human needs apart from food and lodging. The only connection that he could share was that which music and art allowed, but even that had its limits where the human heart was concerned.

The bond between two people needed nurturing, especially for the sake of a motherless boy. How could her ever expect to live up to the challenge. He'd even considered sending the boy away to a boarding school or finding a nice family to adopt him, but it felt too much like abandonment and the man knew he wasn't strong enough to separate himself from his son. Gustave was a lifeline to him, the only thing keeping his head above water in a sea of grief and suffering.

He was too tired to eat, too tired to play the piano, and too tired to hope. He pulled the chord of the little lamp to return the room to darkness, undressed and slipped into bed. The man didn't expect the relief of sleep. He knew that he'd be lost in a forest of memories until falling briefly unconscious, but those memories were like sustenance to him and their promise allowed him to look to the sunrise of a new day.


	6. Where the Fairies Live

Chapter 6 _Where the fairies live._

Not wanting his education to be stifled by the limits of a public school or the narrow-mindedness of a parochial school, Gustave's father had chosen to employ a private tutor. After an arduous round of interviewing every type of educator available in every one of the surrounding states a young man had been hired.

Robert Patch had graduated from Harvard, and subsequently traveled the world studying the history, progression and bias of human law. He came to New York at the beginning of 1908 to begin writing his definitive work, an allegory of the financial and social struggle of the working man in America, and where better to study than the most industrialized city on the continent. Gustave's father had called him a man with some vision, albeit misplaced.

There were days when Gustave's teacher would have him sequestered nearly all day, but because of his innate intelligence and the speed and ease with which he completed his assignments, most of the time he was done with studies by mid-afternoon. He would then take tea with his father and unless they fell into deep conversation or had some kind of outing, more and more a rare occurrence, Gustave was free for most of the afternoon and early evening. It seemed a special torment to him that of all days, his tutor and father chose to break the norm in the week after his incident and took up all of Gustave's time.

Robert had been enflamed by the recent publications in the NY Times that bespoke of the benevolent leadership of the Republican Party. Having converted to the Democratic Party after a privileged upbringing made Robert a staunch supporter of the every man, and the implication that the government had the best interest of its people in mind sent the young man ranting. He spent many hours on a diatribe of how we were living in a fascist state parading itself as a democracy.

When Gustave had finally escaped, he found his father required his attendance while he went to oversee rehearsals for the latest exhibition at Phantasma. Gustave sat absentmindedly next to his father in the specially built Opera box of the theater while the man testily shouted out reprimands to the performers. Afterwards they toured and inspected the different attractions to make sure they were being properly maintained, especially if they incorporated some type of illusion to make the spectators believe the farce they were seeing.

Gustave's impatience didn't escape his Father's notice, and the man worked doggedly to keep his son's attention by plying him with questions. By the end of the week Gustave had to plot and plan an escape. He awoke early to walk the beach as was his habit, but instead of returning home for breakfast he made his way into town. He would wait outside the garden gates until a reasonable hour and ring the small electric buzzer Lisa had shown him. He hoped that the lapse of several days hadn't caused the invitation to be rescinded. Gustave was uncharacteristically nervous while he leaned against the gate, so that when a hand reached through the bars to squeeze his shoulder it nearly made him jump out of his skin.

"Mon dieu" He exclaimed, but when he turned there was an angel smiling back at him. Gustave was filled with warmth that reminded him of something from long ago and forgotten. In the fresh light of morning Lisa's eyes twinkled and were filled like a bright forest green. She unlocked and opened the gate, welcoming him in with a gesture and closing it carefully behind him. Gustave looked at her quizzically as she opened the gate. Today she wore a set of paint splattered denim overalls and her hair was covered by a blue headscarf. _Why would a woman of means dress so strangely?_ He asked himself.

"I thought you'd forgotten us. How strange you should always appear when I take my constitutional in the gardens, but I don't believe in coincidences. Do you?" she asked as she linked her arm through his elbow, like a gentleman leading a lady on a walk. He shook his head in answer. "Good. I think it the sign of a small mind if you can't recognize those little patterns that fill our lives. I don't know if it's God or some intelligent force that weaves the thread of our lives, but the universe is so infinite I don't think we're meant to understand. So what kept you?"

"Um, my tutor had a busy week for me, and my father had a lot of business he needed to attend to. He wanted me with him to have my input." He responded.

"Really, does your father value your opinion and insight?" she asked.

"Yes, always." He said proudly.

"That's wonderful. It's good that he recognizes your potential and the genius only a child's mind possesses. And I know you must be a savant. Mamma is sleeping, so I think it's a good time for that tour. Would you like to see our little cottage?" Gustave visibly puffed up at her comments, and giving her a deep bow he extended his hand to gesture for her to lead on. They entered the foyer and climbed the stairs. Lisa opened door after door onto modestly furnished apartments, but nothing of any real interests. The west and east wings held little attraction, housing mostly normal quarters, storage space, and a tea room.

The north hall in and of itself was beautiful. The wallpaper here was the same sky blue as downstairs, but had been decorated with lacey and elaborate snowflakes. One side of the hallway was just a series of high windows that allowed the full light of day to fill every corner, and the other side had 3 sets of double doors. The first, Lisa informed him, were her rooms. She very demurely asked his pardon, but a ladies chamber should remain a mystery. She said it in such a joking manner that they both giggled at its absurdity, but she still didn't show it to him.

The next rooms almost made Gustave want to laugh out loud. It was a golden ballroom with a mirror for the ceiling and more windows making up the entire far wall. A white grand piano stood in the corner. Gustave's fingers itched to strike the keys and discover how the sound would travel and reverberate off the walls. Even their small footfalls echoed on the shimmering floor. Lisa pulled him back before he could dive for the instrument.

"One day we will dance here. Do you play?" she asked as she shut the doors.

"Oh yes, my mother taught me and my father is a great virtuoso." He said proudly.

"Really, I think I'm beginning to like him. Not many parents hold such high regard in their children's eyes, usually because they are blind to how amazing a child is."

"My father is wonderful." He said timidly, blushing.

"Come, there's more to see and I've saved the best for last."

"Do you mean the fairies? Isn't that what Madam Aguilar mentioned?" he asked. Lisa raised her index finger to her lips in a gesture of silence and grabbed his hand to lead him down the stairs. She didn't bother showing him the rooms of the first floor east and west wings, and merely pointed in each direction rattling off library, kitchen, washroom, mother's room, sitting room, etc. Then she led him down the first floor north hall. It was a mirror image of the second floor in location and size, but when she opened the double doors Gustave nearly fainted away at what he saw.

The room was full of light. For a moment Gustave thought he'd stepped into a strange garden. The entirety of the west wall was a series of windows that looked out on the overgrown jungle that surrounded the property. Three motorized fans moved slowly overhead to cool the area. But everywhere he looked there were paintings, murals, sculptures and some types of artistry he couldn't name.

There were the faeries, on almost every surface of canvas, chiseled or painted into pottery, formed out of clay. Paper cutouts of them hung on strings from the ceiling, swaying fancifully in the light breeze created by the fans. But these weren't just the standard cherubic forms currently popular in art.

They ranged from heavenly nymphs prancing in a variety of back drops, from the frothing waves of the sea to the lush green of ancient forests. Then devilish pixies writhed among flames or leaped among the twisted limbs of haunted forests. Some times in stark contrast they would appear together, one invading the others territory.

In one portrait they battled one another, in the next they danced merrily hand in hand, and still even in others they held one another in an obviously intimate embrace. Gustave moved his eyes quickly away from these. He wouldn't dare linger to inspect them while Lisa watched him. Another of the blushes that plagued him crept up his neck, but even that didn't lessen his pleasure in seeing such amazing sights.

And there weren't just the faeries, all manner of mythical beasts were portrayed on canvases stacked 4 and 5 deep. He recognized unicorns, satyrs, huge serpents and leviathans. For some he knew the stories that accompanied them, but others were strange and alien to any frame of reference even he had.

Gustave walked starry eyed amongst the images. In the world he knew, the world he shared with his father, the freakish was portrayed as a mockery of the norm; grotesqueness was treated as a satire of the ordinary. But here the "other" was treated with as much respect and seriousness as any religious work of art at the Louvre.

Lisa had settled into a cushioned lounge just inside the double doors, eyeing Gustave as he completed circuit after circuit around the large room. With each pass he discovered something more fascinating. Completed artwork had been stacked against each other and he started to discover entire series of paintings that followed themes.

One followed a progression of winged angels, naked and frolicking, but over the next few placards the angels descended past the earthly realm and fell into the welcoming arms of dark demons. In another mural a horde of wolf like beasts devoured a Pegasus, but although the carnage of the scene was immediately evident one could not help but notice the glee and ecstasy apparent on the creature's faces. Even the pups were portrayed licking droplets of blood from their mother's lips happily.

Another mural depicted the crucifixion, but Christ was turned into the wood of the cross. The deep rents in his flesh from where he'd been whipped curled and dripped blood on the group of disciples that had gathered below him. They raised their hands to bath in the crimson shower. One amazing picture depicted the eruption of a volcano, but the flowing lava took on the shapes of people as if they were writhing in the liquid rock. Tables were littered with charcoal sketches that had been used to study and experiment frames of the larger portraits.

The detail of every work showed that it had to have taken many hours of dedication to accomplish, so the sheer volume of creations seemed impossible in one lifetime for one person to complete. Suddenly he was reminded of the dusty library his father had that exploded with all the works of music he'd composed over the years, a room that had seen few additions in recent years.

Finally there was one portrait that gave Gustave great pause. It was of two figures; a woman with angel wings and long flowing hair that floated as it trailed behind her. The other was a man with gothic, reptilian bat like wings being licked with black flames. They held each other in a lover's embrace, their lips pressed together passionately. You could only see one side of each of their faces. The woman's beautiful and serene, but the man's was scarred and in pain. He stood there for many long moments staring at it.

Lisa became concerned, afraid she might have misjudged his sensibilities and offended him. She stood and approached him slowly.

"Does it bother you?" she asked in a whisper.

"No. I think it's beautiful, the most beautiful paintings I've ever seen, even in the louvre." Gustave gushed.

"I seriously doubt that, but I appreciate your compliments. I don't think the louvre would show any of my work, and I rather they didn't. I don't make them to please anyone but myself. Do you paint?" she asked, fingering the edge of the painting that kept Gustave's rapt attention.

"No, but I can draw a bit." He replied.

"I would love to see you draw something. Maybe you would like to try painting or sculpting. There are no boundaries or rules here. Whatever your mind wants to produce is both welcome and appreciated."

The rest of the morning was occupied with exploring the studio and discussing the different works. Lisa's inspiration came from nature and mythology. She'd studied history and lore from the ancient Egyptians, Greeks, Romans, and Hittites; even the Asian and Ottoman empires. She'd given life to gods and goddesses, angels and demons, mythical creatures and extinct beasts in her paintings. She even had a small kiln tucked away in a corner where she created pottery that she then etched with intricate images. One section of a wall was filled with pottery, small sculptures, and remarkable figurines of animals made of folded paper that Lisa called origami.

They spoke excitedly about the world. Gustave was delighted to discover that before the death of her father and husband, Lisa's family had traveled the globe. From as far back as she could remember they'd been south to Chile and Australia, then to Alaska and Sweden in the north. Her father, Mr. Armando Aguilar, had been a Spanish aristocrat who'd also been an officer on a royal galleon.

When he was a young man his overbearing father had exiled him to service as a sailor because of his romance with the daughter of a cleaning woman. When the old man died he rushed home to be reunited with his beloved. They were married after being separated for 18 years. In all that time they'd kept their romance alive by writing letters and constantly declaring undying love for one another.

It had been a magical romance, and Lisa told it with so much feeling that Gustave had to fight back tears. Her mother and father had been separated for so long, but she had waited for him. Madam Aguilar had been nearly 40 when she'd been married and given birth to her only daughter, but having a child with the love of her life had made it the greatest reward for her long dedication.

Lisa had been the center of their lives from that moment on. They denied her nothing and she'd been exposed to the world with very little censor or bias. Far from being spoiled she'd become a generous and humble young woman, encompassing her mother's unsurpassable spirit and her father's zest for living. She'd been taught to appreciate humanities beauty and ugliness so that she could understand its magic.

When Lisa was 18 years old her father had introduced her to a man who'd been a cabin boy with him on the galleon and a favorite friend of his. A dark wild-eyed Irishman named Charles Faolan, and it wasn't long before she and Charles had fallen passionately in love. When they announced their marriage plans, her father had been so happy he'd given his wholehearted blessing. Most men might not have welcomed their daughter's marriage to a penniless sailor, but his father knew the rarity of finding true love and celebrated their happiness.

They had only been married two years when tragedy struck. After the death of Mr. Aguilar's close friend Juan Margallo, the family had gone to the politically unstable country of Morocco, where it was intended that he would take the slain governor's place as protector of Spain's interests in the region. Their citadel was raided by a band of Berber mercenaries who, at the Sultans command, intended to rid their homeland of Spain's influence at any cost. Lisa and her mother had been able to hide from the attackers, but both Mr. Aguilar and Mr. Faolan were killed defending them. That had been 15 years ago.

Lisa and her mother then came to live in the NY house, an old property that had been part of her father's holdings from the time of his father. Lisa said she'd had all she could take of the world's violence and was happy to live here painting. She finished her story with such an air of sadness, that Gustave suddenly felt his own tragedies were small in comparison.

It was then that there was a knock at the studio door and a woman entered. Gustave had seen many people of color among those that had come to work at Phantasma, but this woman was truly the color of ebony. Her skin seemed to gleam against her starched uniform.

"My lady, lunch is ready and your mother is waiting for you." She said in a peculiar accent that Gustave thought the most beautiful he'd ever heard because of its exotic intonations. To the boy's surprise, Lisa laughed as if some great joke had been told.

"Goodness gracious Kara, what are you wearing and why are you talking like that?" she asked. The maid, who was almost as wrinkled as Mrs. Aguilar, gave a very exasperated look before answering.

"My lady, we have a guest and I think we should show him we are a proper household. I am a servant here after all." She said in a placid yet obviously sarcastic tone.

"Really Kara, do you think I'd invite anyone here who'd see you that way. You may have been brought here under the pretense of being our maid, but you know very well your part of the family. And where did you get that uniform." Although Lisa spoke jestingly, there was a note of hurt that Gustave picked up on. The boy didn't know why, but this little interchange made him even fonder of her.

"I've always had it, just in case it became needed." Kara had placed her hands on her hips as she explained. Lisa stood up, and taking Gustave's hand, led him to where the woman stood.

"Gustave, this is Ms. Kara Mundie. She has been my best friend for almost twenty years, not my maid." Gustave smiled at the woman, who up close was even more striking to him because she had bright brown eyes that were large and friendly. He smiled and took her hand to kiss the knuckles.

"Ah, you really are a lovely child. Well, even if I'm not the maid I'm most certainly the cook. I've prepared a lovely meal and I expect both of you to eat hardily." Kara gave him a friendly smile as she led them to the sitting room where he'd first met Madam Aguilar.

"The reason you cook is because you are excellent at it and I know you enjoy it immensely." Lisa whispered sideways to Gustave as they walked, and the boy chuckled. Mrs. Aguilar sat quietly reading at a round table that had been laden with so much food Gustave wondered if more guests were expected, but only the 4 chairs for those present had been arranged.

This room had also come alive in a flood of light as all the curtains had been pulled back. Gustave suddenly thought that it was really a house of glass, so unlike his home where light seemed to have trouble breaking in. He didn't mind the darkness, and even enjoyed its romance and mystery. The night had a music to it that was alluring, but light like this transported him to another world and warmed him from the inside out.

"Really Kara, I know Gustave is a little thin but we're not trying to fatten him up. It's not like we're witches living in a gingerbread house." She said, and the boy snickered at her joke.

"Ach, just eat woman. If there is anything here you don't like young monsieur just let me know, I can cook whatever you like next time." Just the smell coming from the bounty was enough to make Gustave's stomach growl as if he hadn't eaten in months. Before taking a seat, Gustave went over to greet Madam Aguilar. He bowed and reached out to take her hand, but the woman pulled him down into a warm embrace. It surprised the boy, but he couldn't deny the affection she was showing him because of the responding swelling of his own heart.

"Now don't fill up to quickly on one thing. If you don't at least taste everything and give Kara your review of her skill she'll start force feeding you bits of everything else." Lisa laughed out loud at the scathing look Kara gave her, but soon he had no trouble sampling every dish and finding that every single one was a gourmet experience. Kara held on to a satisfied smile as she watched him tuck in happily to the food.

Over the meal Madam Aguilar, who ate little, recounted the story of her love again. It was beautiful how she described the way she and her husband had fallen in love and how while he'd been exiled to the navy they'd written to each other for twenty years, always professing their love. The madam said it had been like they'd never been separated as long as she received his letters.

Even after they'd finally been married they had continued to write love notes. It was a game of theirs to hide them in strange places for the other to discover like hidden treasures. Even for a few years after his death she had still found some tucked away in her things. She'd kept every note he'd ever penned. Whenever she missed him she could read them and relive their love affair.

After they'd each had their fill, making only a small dent to the platters of food still left on the table, Gustave helped Lisa and Kara clear the remains.

"It seems such a waste to throw this all away." Commented the boy as they moved the food. He looked up to see Lisa giving him a curious stare.

"Actually, most of the leftovers Kara will pack up and take to the orphanage. Most children of the well to do wouldn't have considered such a thing. I'm pleased to see you have such a generous heart." Lisa said.

"Thank you, but it's my mother's influence that has taught me. In Paris she was part of a number of charitable organizations and often spoke of the unnecessary decadence and opulence of the upper classes." said the boy.

"Really, she must have been quite an amazing woman."

"Yes, she was. I don't know if my father does anything like that, but he takes great care of everyone working in the park. Whenever anyone is sick he pays for the doctor and medicine. He even brought in a teacher to make sure everyone can read and write. And everyone lives in apartments on the island that my father owns, and as long as they work they live for free. He says a happy employee is a loyal subject." said Gustave, gushing with pride.

"Really, sounds like his own personal Camelot." Gustave crinkled his brow at Lisa's comment, unfamiliar with the reference. "Don't you know the story of King Arthur and Lady Guinevere?" she asked. The boy shook his head.

Lisa and Gustave returned to the sitting room where Mrs. Aguilar waited, and joined her at a collection of couches that were set to bathe in the warmth of the afternoon sun. When they had settled against the soft couch cushions Lisa proceeded to regale him with the tale of Camelot, as well as that of Beowulf and Cuculin. Each woman took turns in telling parts of the stories, and Gustave laughed as whole heartedly as he could remember ever doing so when Lisa acted out Grendel's attack and Mrs. Aguilar gave a cackling voice to the queen of the wilderness. So caught up were they in the retelling of ancient tales that Gustave barely noticed when the sun had begun to dip into the western horizon.

"Oh no, father will be furious!" he exclaimed jumping up when he realized the lateness of the hour. He was just about to dart from the room when Lisa caught his arm.

"Hold on, does he have a telephone." The boy nodded in earnest, seeing some means of salvation. "Well then, let's call him." Holding the boy's hand warmly Lisa led him to a corner of the foyer where on a small table sat the instrument. He'd seen others use the device, and feeling very important lifted the receiver and relayed all the needed information to the operator. The silence as he waited became heavy as he feared not being able to reach his home, but then a deep voice announced itself with a deceivingly calm tone on the other line.

"Gustave?" asked the man.

"Yes father. Lisa is letting me use her telephone to let you know I've lost track of the time, but I am heading out now and will be home soon." Talking with his father while Lisa looked on made him feel nervous.

"No, I will come get you immediately. Give me the address." demanded his father. Gustave's eyes went wide with horror at the thought of his father coming to this place to collect him. Everyone feared his father and often in turn feared him. He didn't want to frighten Lisa or the others and risk his never being able to return.

"NO, I mean, I'll be fine. I'll make it home in about a half hour." responded the boy, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice.

"Nonsense, I'll send Gangle in the carriage to get you." Gustave heaved a sigh of relief. He gave his father the address and directions before ringing off the line. When he turned back to Lisa her eyes were filled with gentle concern.

"Is everything alright?" She asked.

"Yes. It's just… he worries, and I don't want to frighten him unnecessarily." He replied, hesitant to meet her gaze.

"Gustave, I know it's not my place but… are you afraid of him… I mean, does he treat you well." She asked tentatively.

"Oh yes. Don't get the impression he's any kind of monster or tyrant, just a little overprotective at times. I'm all he has you see, and he's all I have now too." Gustave couldn't identify the feeling that made him want to disclose such things, but he had an innate trust for Lisa that gave him the courage to speak freely. "My father is different than other people. He has to wear this mask, and well, it makes it hard for him to deal with other people, especially strangers."

"Oh, I see. Well, maybe you both can come here one day and we can all become friends." Although Gustave had sought to alleviate her concern, his use of the words 'monster' and 'tyrant' gave her pause. Perhaps if she were to meet him it would help the boy. She didn't really like the thought. It was one thing to invite a child into her home, but now to extend it to a masked man she'd never met would have been out of the question if not for the look of dismay on Gustave's face.

"Thank you, I appreciate your kindness." He said, feeling very thankful for her offer but not having the intention of sharing it with his father. He and Lisa waited with Mrs. Aguilar until Mr. Gangle arrived in what seemed like record time. As Lisa escorted him to the gate he kept a watchful eye for the presence of anyone else. When he was satisfied that his father hadn't hitched a ride, he allowed Lisa to give him an affectionate hug before disappearing into the vehicle.

Mr. Gangle, ever the showmen and probably appraising Lisa for Gustave's father, graciously introduced himself to the lady while bowing deeply. Lisa, acting much more accepting than most Gustave had ever witnessed, gave him back a graceful curtsy and smiled brightly. When the man, who'd become a great friend to the boy over the years, turned to take his place to drive the horseless carriage, he gave Gustave a knowing tip of the hat that made the boy giggle and blush to the tips of his ears. He felt the day had been perfect, and even felt a quiet rush of pleasure to go home and share some of his happy mood with his father whose sour attitude could in no way darken Gustave's good humor.


	7. Loyalties

CHAPTER 7 Loyalties

"NO, and that is final! Who do these people think they are, allowing a child your age into their home without the parent's consent and then keeping you past a reasonable time? And you, do you think so little of me to have no respect for my rules? Don't you realize you're my entire world Gustave, and if anything were to happen to you it would kill me? Do you think these pernicious women are going to collect you like a stray pup, no; they would take advantage of you. Why else would they be showing such interest in you? No one in the world is more than self-serving; regardless of the façade they try to present you. I warn you not to be so easily deceived."

On and on the tirade went. The boy had never exhibited a temper like Erik's, but after a lifetime of dealing with the Vicomte's bad humor he was prepared to deal with these outbursts. After the day spent with Lisa, Gustave had managed to make it home and have an uneventful dinner with his father though he ate little. It wasn't until he tried to slip out early the next day that his father's anger had exploded. Gustave knew it wasn't that his father meant to hurt him with any of his comments. The concern came from his fear of being alone.

One talent his mother had imprinted upon him was to be a good listener, to hear the feeling behind the words and consider the why of what people did to themselves and to others. As with most situations, his father's biggest fear was losing Gustave, and he considered the entire world both a threat and competition for his son's love and attention. The boy took the time allotted while his father continued to rant to formulate a plan that could both ease his father's mind and allow him the freedom to visit Lisa.

"Are you listening to me?" came a voice very close to his face. Lost in his musings the boy had stopped paying attention to his father's words, and the man now stood towering above him with a mix of hurt and vexation written across the unmasked left side of his face.

"Yes, father. I'm sorry, but I've told you. They aren't interested in anything more than being my friends. Mrs. Aguilar is already a wealthy lady and isn't interested in money, and Lisa is a widow who lost her husband many years ago. They're not trying to trick me into anything and haven't asked anything of me except friendship. I think they're just a little lonely and… I can understand that." said the boy. His father took a small step back, almost as if he'd been struck, then settled on the piano next to his son. It took only a moment for him to formulate a retort.

"Don't you think I'm lonely without you here, especially knowing you prefer the company of these strangers to that of your own father." That comment did make Gustave flinch, like he too had been hit by some unseen hand. It was at times like this that Gustave felt more like the mature adult in the relationship. He placed his hand on his father's shoulder and tried to turn his torso to face him. He was unable to repress the pang of guilt when he saw the small shimmer of moisture that had collected at the corners of those haunted eyes.

When his mother had died, Gustave learned the hard lesson that parents weren't infallible beings. They were as vulnerable as anybody and made mistakes all the time. Gustave had the thought, as he often did at these moments, that this was the man his mother had fallen in love with, not the hard stoic powerful rock of a man normally presented to the world.

"They are just friends, new and novel, but they could never replace you. You are my father and always will be. I love you, and you're also the only person I have in the world." It was the honest truth, he wasn't trying to manipulate or sway his father. They needed one another and if all the rest of the world fell away they would always have each other.

His father pulled him into a tight hug, desiring as much as ever to feel the solid reality of his son, alive and vital. Gustave knew what the right thing to do was, though it irked him slightly to give the thought life. For all his innate wisdom and maturity, inside he still had the selfish child that wanted to keep a new toy all to himself, but a voice from deep within his heart sang to him to act out of love.

"Father, Lisa… Mrs. Faolan that is, asked me to invite you, at your convenience of course, to come with me one day to visit." He pulled back from his father as he spoke, and the man looked down at him with a perplexed look. "Perhaps if you meet them it would make things easier, more comfortable I mean."

"I'm not sure that would be the best idea." His father remarked as he released his hold and turned in his seat to face the piano's keys. He began to tap out an old melody that Gustave recognized as one he'd been unable to finish since losing his muse.

"Well, I hope you'll consider it, and I hope you'll reconsider your opinion of them." Gustave had turned to watch his father's fingers as they flew effortlessly over the keys. The tune, with its rise and fall, tone and rhythm, was more effective than any words in conveying the emotions of the player. They sat together until the music faded. The man closed the cover folded his hands over the dark wood.

"Fine Gustave, you have my leave to continue visiting your new friends, but I still reserve my judgment of them for the time being." He said, so low only the person nearest him could have heard it.

"Thank you father." Having received the consent he'd been pining for, Gustave was sure his father expected the boy to go bounding off to visit the women, but Gustave was the best of his mother.

"So, will we be heading into the park today? Aren't you due to inspect the new costumes for the Independence Day shows? And I heard Ms. Fleck mention some of the carnies wanted to open a new game booth." For the first time in a while Gustave felt encouraged by the idea of spending time with his father, especially while overseeing park functions. The man looked over to his son's eager face and couldn't help but thank his angel for such a wonderful gift.

"I thought you planned to spend the day in the city now that you have permission?" he asked.

"Perhaps tomorrow afternoon, I already spent all of yesterday there. I want to spend today with you. Could we go have breakfast in the café?" asked Gustave. His father nodded and together the pair departed to Coney Island.

From then on Gustave took special care to balance time away from home and what he spent with his father, so as to spare the man anymore pain and avoid any unpleasant confrontations. But his desire to be at the mansion only grew with each visit. The months went by quickly.

Even with the passing of August, summer was reluctant to make way for autumn and the crowds still filled the boardwalk every day, spilling onto the beaches. It kept Erik busy, although he never failed to notice when Gustave headed into the city.

His visits had become regular enough that Lisa made some small accommodations for him, like leaving the gate open on the days he was expected and having Kara prepare some of his favorite treats. Gustave was particularly fond of her chocolate cake that was nearly as delicious as the one his mother used to make for him.

The boy could feel something new was beginning, but he also knew something else was ending. He was afraid of not knowing what the consequences of all this would be, but he was more afraid of what would happen if nothing in his life changed.


	8. Eden is a lonely place

CHAPTER 8 Eden is a lonely place

Gustave visits quickly became the brightest spot of Lisa's day. They spent most of the time in her studio talking while she painted, then listening to Madam Aguilar tell stories, and helping Kara prepare meals or reading in the well supplied library. But his favorite thing to do was playing piano, either for the ladies or composing by himself at the grand piano of the ballroom. Of course he had an instrument equally as fine at home, but hearing his music resonating through the high ceiling room gave the boy a particular thrill.

He'd imagine performing for a crowd of smartly dressed men and women. In his mind he saw them gliding across the dance floor, even seeing his father, mother, and Lisa among the throng. He'd play, his mother would sing, and everyone would applaud them. It was his favorite fantasy and often Lisa would find him smiling broadly as he pounded away at the keys. The boy had become a part of their lives; his presence was breathing new life into their sullen existence.

Lisa even set up an easel, canvas and lounge in the ballroom so she could sketch and paint while he played. The music inspired her in ways that hadn't surfaced for years. During breaks the two would sit companionably talking about any subject that caught their fancy. But despite the pleasure she had in his company, the part of Lisa the longed to be a mother had become concerned.

Gustave was growing into a young man, and it was the habit at such an age to be in the company of other young people with whom to socialize and form lifelong friendships. Lisa felt she was aiding in his deprivation of those life experiences, so she brought it up with him one day.

"I thought you'd prefer to spend your free time on Coney Island. I'm sure Phantasma is like your own personal playground with your father as the owner." Lisa inquired as her paintbrush continued to stroke the canvas. Gustave sighed with dismay. Lisa's observation made him feel the ever present guilt of not committing all his time to his father.

"The park is great, and I've spent a lot of time there. But it's gotten kind of lonely."

"Don't you have any friends you'd like to visit?" she asked.

"Other than you," he chuckled, "Not really. I don't get on very well with children my age." He said flatly, feeling a little embarrassed by his social inefficiencies.

"I can sympathize with that. When I was your age I found other children to be such a nuisance, especially girls. All they were interested in was their hair, their clothes and shoes. They had such a warped sense of the world that frustrated me to no end, especially in large groups." Gustave smiled wide as he listened to Lisa. It was exactly the way he felt about others his age. He'd thought perhaps his life had just been too sheltered, and his discomfort around other adolescents was a fault in his own personality. To know that he wasn't alone made him feel relieved.

Gustave's father had told him that he'd never had any friends, apart from Christine, and didn't feel there was a need for them. He couldn't understand Gustave's desire to see and meet people, but he could empathize with the boy's discomfort around those his own age. As a child he'd been a captive until later when he'd come to live in the opera house. Then he'd been happy to be alone and hidden away from the eyes of people.

The man had grown up knowing nothing of a mother's care and acceptance, only seeing the world as a gauntlet of pain and hatred. It was only in loving Gustave's mother that he'd learned what it was to care. Gustave didn't know the entire story of their courtship and union, or what had separated them and forced Gustave to live 10 years as the son of the Vicomte. He knew only that times had been difficult and both parties had acted in the best interest of the other.

"That's exactly how I feel. I'd much rather spend time around grown-ups and I've never liked crowds either. Unless it's a concert, then everybody is enjoying the music."

"But who do you play with?" she inquired.

"Nobody since my mother died. But that's ok, playing is for little children. I think I've just grown out of it." He replied ruefully. Lisa sighed. It was something she'd have to think more about.

"Do you go often to concerts?" she asked.

"My father took me once to the Metropolitan for a performance, but it reminded him to much of mother and we've never gone back. In France I wasn't old enough to go to my mother's performances, which were rare. But she would sing just for me at home when my father wasn't around. Oh… I mean the Vicomte, the man I'd thought was my father." Gustave blushed at the statement, feeling apprehensive to have mentioned such a scandalous situation. Lisa was unfazed by it and continued on.

"That must have been lovely. I remember my mother singing Spanish arias to me growing up; they are her favorite, although she didn't have your mother's talent." Lisa sighed deeply at the memory of simpler days. Gustave looked curiously at Lisa's face as it concentrated on her paint strokes. As their friendship and familiarity grew, Gustave felt Lisa's already striking beauty had become like the light of the sun to him.

"Lisa, you mentioned once before that you were an admirer of my mother's talent and just now you compared it to Mrs. Aguilar. Have you heard my mother perform?"

Lisa's hand stopped in midair, and she slowly lowered it and turned to look at the boy. She wasn't sure how much to say, worried that anything she said might do more harm than good. She didn't know how much Gustave knew about his parents or the strange events of so many years ago. After all, even she couldn't be sure how much of the fantastic and horrible story could be true. She knew she couldn't leave the question unanswered, especially with the boy staring back at her expectantly.

"I have actually. Just after the death of Charles and my father, momma and I stayed in Paris with a cousin. She wanted to cheer us up and took us too see a performance of Il Muto. Christine Daae had… she performed the role of Marguerite too perfection. It was truly a once in a lifetime performance." She smiled broadly at him, making sure the corners of her mouth reached her ears. He only smiled back.

Lisa was sure, that had he known more of the mystery surrounding those events he'd have pressed her for details. But how much could she really have offered except what the papers and gossip had given her, especially since she was still wrapped up in her own grief at the time. She went back to painting hues of violet and blue on the canvas and allowed the subject to move on.

For the rest of the afternoon Gustave and Lisa talked about his own music, and by the time she walked him to the curb he'd promised to one day play her a special song his father had written for his mother. As soon as he'd disappeared from view Lisa's mind was caught up in the thoughts she'd been trying to avoid all afternoon.

Her memories of that performance of Il Muto so many years ago had started to blossom in her mind. By now two distinct things were echoing in Lisa's ears; the melodic voice of Mademoiselle Daae and the threatening words of the opera ghost. All of Paris had been alight with gossip for weeks after, but at the time it had all meant so little to Lisa.

She was sure there was much more to the story, but she was just as sure that it wasn't anything good. People had died, and now even Miss Daae was dead at the hands of a mad woman, or so said the papers. Though her curiosity was peaked Lisa had no intention of asking Gustave about the subject. There were definitely skeletons in that closet, and Gustave was already haunted by so many.

But the father, Lisa shuddered to consider all the possibilities.


	9. Old habits die hard

CHAPTER 9 Old habits die hard

Restless nights were the norm for Lisa, spending the dark hours after her mother went to bed trying to read, write in her journal or simply wandering the house in the dark, peering out of the windows to watch the few city lights that made it over the garden perimeter. She had been looking at the faraway lights of the Chrysler building when a disturbing shadow came over the wall. Her heart caught in her throat as she saw the figure drop into the foliage of the garden. Barely able to breath, Lisa listened intently for the sound she dreaded hearing most, and only a few moments passed when the small creaking of the side door being opened met her ears.

The fear that grew in her mind was countered only by the rage she felt that anyone would dare invade her home. Keeping her ears trained on the sound of the intruder slowly making his way down the west hall, Lisa collected the pistol from atop her mantle and crept out her room dressed only in the negligee she slept in. She moved slowly, knowing exactly where to step so as not to make any noise in her naked feet.

Just over the railing she was able to make out the top of a dark head as it passed under the stairway into the north hall, towards the studio. When she heard the door open and muted footsteps pass from the wooden floor to the linoleum of her workshop, she bravely descended the stairs and peaked into the darkened room. She watched as the dark form of a tall man explored the area.

He seemed unperturbed by the lack of brightness and reviewed each piece of art as if it were presented under the full light of day. This wasn't the kind of robber or rapist Lisa expected to pay her a visit, but not allowing herself to be distracted by watching the stranger she tightened her grip on the gun and entered the studio.

When she was close enough to be sure of her aim, but not to close as to allow him the chance to lunge, she raised the pistol and cocked the hammer. At the sound, the intruder turned sharply to find her aiming squarely at his chest. It was too dark for Lisa to make out the features of his face, so he appeared only as a silhouette against the colors of the paintings and wall behind him.

 _After decades of living in the shadows the darkness of the studio didn't hinder his perusal. The moon beams cascading through the large windows were enough to give each portrait sufficient life, and it was life he saw in each frame, majestic and graceful in some, violent and carnal in others, that he found. Each canvas caught his attention with its vibrant depictions._

 _To the uninspired eye they might be mistaken for flights of fancy, but there was a story being told in every image. Gustave had described to him some of what type of artist this woman was, but he'd never imagined this. Pagan gods and Christian saints shared Greek and roman vistas. Depictions of mythical events seemed to unfold in the silver moonlight._

 _A raven haired Diana in her orb cradled a bleeding Christ to her full bosom, his crown of thorns piercing the tender ivory flesh of her chest and her tear's mingling with the trails of blood flowing down their bodies. Their expressions were nothing like the stoic or cherubic flat faces common in contemporary art, there was real pain and grief etched in those lines and filling the colors. If anyone could recognize that suffering it was he, and seeing it so beautifully rendered made Eric stand transfixed so that he was unaware of the other presence in the room._

"Most robbers don't take leisurely tours before stealing valuables, or maybe you're a jackass too drunk to know where he is. What are you doing here?" Lisa tried to give as much venom to her words as she could muster. The man stood unmoving for several seconds before slowly raising his hands from his sides to show he was unarmed.

"I'm not here to rob or hurt you." The man took one calculated step towards Lisa.

"Stay where you are or I'll shoot." The intruder paused only a moment before deciding that his hostess was unlikely to fire, but he nearly dove to the floor as one well aimed bullet whistled past his ear to explode a piece of pottery on a shelf behind him. "I assure you I'm quite capable of shooting you dead, so I suggest you stay put and be more forthcoming."

"I can see that now. My apologies to call on you so unceremoniously at such an ungodly hour, but I believe we have a mutual acquaintance about whom I was eager to discuss." He spoke silkily.

"I somehow doubt that we share any acquaintances." Lisa spat back.

"My son will be very sorry to hear that." Though she couldn't see his face there was a smile to his statement that somehow annoyed Lisa more than fueling her anger, but the implication of his words gave her pause.

"Do you mean to say that your Gustave's father?" she asked, and he gave her a low bow as acknowledgment.

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" she asked.

"Well, perhaps he's given you a description of me." He said flatly, the smile having been milked from his voice.

Lisa took a measured step back. With her free hand she found the metal chain dangling from a lamp. She pulled it and a small light illuminated the corner of the studio where they stood. The man flinched slightly for just a moment as the light found him, but it was Lisa who had the most trouble keeping focus as his face came into view. Indeed, there was only half a face on the left side to see, whereas his right side was hidden behind a stark white mask. Two eyes, whose wide pupils made them look black as night, stared intently back at her.

He stood unmoving before her while she examined him. The sight startled her, but she had the feeling he expected the effect to be more dramatic as he waited for her to react more strongly. While the standoff continued, Lisa could hear Kara's footsteps approach and in a moment another pistol came into view next to her, held as steadily as she did hers.

"I suppose you have a good reason why this vermin is still standing?" Kara asked, never allowing her eyes to stray from her target.

"Well, if Gustave's description holds true, I believe we have the pleasure of making his father's acquaintance." Kara's only response was to snigger.

"Now that you have been assured I am who I say I am, why don't you ladies lower your weapons before someone gets hurt." he asked, his tone taking on a level of condescension one would not expect from a man with two guns pointed expertly at him.

"I would require the confirmation of your name, your real name." Lisa said. He took several moments to calculate his response. Not many people knew his real name, even though it wasn't one that had any real meaning to him since it did not denote family affiliation. He still felt that there was power in both knowing and using a person's name, and guarded his closely. Even Christine had never spoken it.

"To the general public I'm referred to as Mr. Y most often, but to family and friends I'm Erik Destler." He said reverently.

"Charming" Lisa said matching every bit of the sarcasm he projected. Erik wasn't used to having such little effect on women. Not in the romantic sense of course, but instead causing them to tremble with fear and discomfort at the sight of him.

Slowly, Lisa lowered the pistol and allowed it to rest against her thigh. It took a few more seconds before Kara followed suit, but both kept the required tension in their arms needed to raise and fire the weapons quickly.

"So Mr. Destler, why don't we forego any more small talk, and come to the point; What exactly did you want to discuss concerning Gustave?" Feigning interest in the canvas nearest to him, Erik looked away from the pair, although all his attention was still completely on them.

"My child has been spending an in ordinate amount of time here, time he'd normally spend with his only living parent and remaining family. So I was interested to know what the draw was and why a coven of lonely women had any interest in him. After all, there's very little usefulness a 13 year old boy can have to such a group." Erik took a few slow steps to gain some ground as he spoke, but Lisa and Kara matched his movements.

When Erik looked back at Lisa he was immediately struck by what he found. The few feet they'd moved was enough to frame her silhouette against the light of the lamp. It shone through her negligee revealing much of her figure. He expected to see the revulsion that he caused when his eyes touched her, but to his surprise she neither shied nor withdrew from his invading gaze. Instead she stood proudly and when Erik's eyes traveled up to find hers in the dimness the look of temerity she gave him made Erik struggle to remain composed. Erik was a man used to being on the winning end of any battle for dominance, but for the first time in a very long time he felt matched.

"I can assure you sir that there is no lasciviousness on our part. We have simply extended our kindness to a young man who seemed very much to need a friend and some compassion. Certainly, you're a person who can understand loneliness." She knew she'd found her mark as the man's eyes went wide with barely suppressed fury. One edge of Lisa's mouth twitched as she tried to restrain a grin. Had it not been for the reminder of the pistol she gingerly tapped against her leg he might have even tried charging at her.

"I can assure YOU my son does not need any of your charity, he has all he needs and more. And I don't believe it healthy for my child to be consorting with a bunch of shut in's. If you think…" he tried to continue, but Lisa cut him off.

"I think it's best you have this conversation with your child. I think monsieur that we have no more to discuss. I neither care for nor need your opinion or judgments so take them and stick them up your ass." Lisa felt more than a little self-satisfied to see the masked man gaping at her abruptness with a slack jaw.

"How dare you…" he tried.

"How dare _you_? You're the one breaking into my home in the middle of the night. And then you start accusing us of associating with your son for nefarious reasons. To think of how highly Gustave speaks of you, and find now that you are no more than impertinent, impudent, insolent, misogynist pig." Kara placed her hand lightly on Lisa's shoulder, the familiar hint to calm down. She'd gotten very near to shouting, which meant she risked waking her mother, and Lisa did not want to involve her mother in this situation.

Erik felt a small sense of triumph in knowing he'd caused her to be so off balance. It was a satisfying feeling that stirred something inside of him.

"You definitely have an extensive vocabulary." There was laughter in his voice, making Lisa's temper bubble anew. Erik raised his hands in mock surrender as he chuckled to himself. "I think perhaps, we are getting off on the wrong foot. A man in my position must be very wary of those who might have ulterior motives you see, especially those who might have designs on my only child." He said, regaining that smooth melodic voice he'd first used.

Lisa and Kara stood tight lipped waiting for him to continue. If his sentiments were true, on some level she could understand a desire to test them, although breaking and entering were perhaps farther than one would expect him to go. If his intention was to impress upon them he wasn't a man to trifle with he'd succeeded, but Lisa wasn't like other women who would cower under a man's threat.

"My boy has expressed to me that he thinks very highly of you as well. He describes you as courteous and kind. Perhaps we should both trust Gustave's impressions of people and not make such rash judgments. After all, we don't really know each other." Erik tilted his head to scrutinize his audience, and unconsciously Lisa mirrored the same gesture. A strained moment passed before Lisa responded.

"Agreed; although we may not have the notoriety you do, that's no reason for anyone to make unfair suppositions. I think we should give first impressions another chance for Gustave sake. If he hasn't already extended it, I invite you to visit with him one of these days, in the light of day, unless you intend to forbid his return." Though her words were charitable she said them with a level of disdain that would have been unacceptable in polite society, but this man was either oblivious to her implied sentiment or he simply didn't care about it.

"I couldn't deny him anything that might lend to his… happiness, and perhaps I can ease your mind about my reputation. Now, I think it's time I took my leave." He said.

"I think that's a good idea." Lisa replied. "You found your way in, I'm sure you need no assistance in getting out." Erik moved forward to exit the room, but Lisa and Kara were blocking him. The older woman stepped quickly aside to make way, like most people did to avoid the possibility of close proximity to Erik. Lisa only turned her body to allow him to pass, so he had to brush past her. Kara noticed the shudder that seemed to run through both forms as their bodies briefly came into contact, and she catalogued the memory.

The women followed Erik as he retraced his steps down the west hall and exited out the side door into the garden. When he was gone, Kara turned sharply to her friend.

"That man is not to be trusted. How can you consider letting him in this house again, he is obviously dangerous and capable of anything." questioned Kara. Lisa sighed deeply.

"Yes, I think so too. But for Gustave's sake I think we should give him a chance. After all, it's not like he's going to move in." replied Lisa, as she relocked the door.

"Maybe it's best the boy doesn't come back here. He seems like the kind of man that might mistreat a child if he displeased him."

"Maybe, but Gustave told me he's really a good man, just misunderstood. I'd like to trust he wouldn't lie about that. If Gustave does come again I'll find out if there's anything abusive going on. If we're lucky the devil won't accept my invitation and we'll never see him again." Lisa knew her wishful thinking was ill-advised, but her heart was telling her not to be deceived by appearances. There was more to this story and she felt compelled to allow the drama to play itself out.

Kara gave her mistress a very disdainful huff. The women parted ways and retired to their rooms, and Lisa settled in her bed trying to sleep. In her mind the nights events replayed over and over, along with the long ago memories of what had happened in Paris. Could there be a connection, and what would it mean for them if there was. Lisa fell into a fretful sleep while mulling over the possibilities.

Kara had witnessed the confrontation anxiously. In the end what had amazed her most was how the two combatants had gone from nearly biting each other's heads off to negotiating a truce? Lisa was a good girl with a gracious heart. It was one of the things Kara loved most about her. Kara even understood Lisa's attachment to Gustave since she had no child of her own, but this was overstepping the boundaries of rationale thought.

After all they'd been through together Kara felt a special responsibility to keep her adopted family safe. She'd have to keep a watchful eye on her friend, and especially this masked freak of a man. In her mind there couldn't be anything good about a man who clearly meant malice against them. Lisa might be too blinded to see the risk of allowing him access to their lives, but Kara would not be.


	10. Impressions

CHAPTER 10 Impressions

Erik had managed for two days to keep his son home by asking the boy to play his latest composition. Gustave had been shocked into disbelief, but knowing it was a rare treat he had been able to stave off his desire to go see Lisa and sat at the piano with his father. Together they'd been able to complete a short piece that was beautifully haunting. It filled the man with the deep sense of Christine's presence in their son. It was as bitter sweet as ever, but the pain was tempered by the joy of connecting with Gustave.

They traveled together to the park, touring the attractions and actually taking a walk along the beach, to the awe of several late season sunbathers. But by Friday the boy was beyond anxious to make his way into the city. When he joined his father for their daily tea time, he had formulated a plan to counter any request for his company.

Erik could see the thoughts brewing in his son's eyes as he quietly sipped his tea. Like his mother, Gustave was not very good at trying to be covert. The thought caused an ache deep in his chest to flare. Time had not deadened the sharp sting of grief as he'd needed, and it was a torment that Erik wasn't sure he could continue to withstand. Had it not been for the love and commitment to his son, Erik would have long ago succumbed to a deep depression that would have eventually taken his life.

"So, I take it your quite anxious to visit your friends after just a two day absence." said the man. Gustave looked up from the biscuit he'd begun to nibble.

"Um… yes. It's a nice day out so I was considering it." He replied hesitantly, trying to disguise his excitement.

"I'll join you. I think perhaps it's time I was properly introduced, after all I am your father." Gustave nearly ejected tea out of his nose in surprise.

"But…" Gustave tried to come up with a retort, but came up dry. Erik looked across the small table gauging the level of horror that registered on his son's face at the prospect of his presentation.

"Is there a problem? I thought the invitation had been extended." Erik spoke in a very measured air of civility.

"Well yes it had, but I didn't expect… I mean… you're not usually very social." Gustave stumbled over his words, trying to express concern for Erik's sensibilities, but the look on his face betrayed the obvious feeling of apprehension.

Erik had come a long way since his days in Paris, and although he had no desire for the company of strangers, he no longer feared the malice of the outside world. He might have found his son's comments comical under other circumstances. Right now he felt as if he was fighting a very delicate battle for the boy's affection. Gustave was a very perceptive child, so he would have to pick his words carefully and be mindful of even his smallest actions.

"For your sake I can handle the mild discomfort of being friendly." He said with just the hint of a smirk on his lips. Gustave gave him a strained smile in return. The pair finished their refreshments and within a few minutes time they were on their way.

Erik didn't like the thought of sharing his son with anyone, indeed the idea made him profoundly jealous and afraid. He coveted his son's attention as closely as he had Christine's, but it had become increasingly obvious to him that there were things the boy needed that he had neither the knowledge nor insight to provide. Urging himself to think rationally and not emotionally about what was best for Gustave; Erik admitted only to himself the wisdom that his son's friendship with Lisa might be a good thing. But he would not concede defeat yet, and was going to make sure that this woman understood she would not be usurping any level of parental liberties on his son.

She was not his mother, and neither she nor any other could take Christine's place for either Gustave or Erik. Christine had been the one love of his tortured and wretched life, and there was no way he could ever imagine another person touching that part of his soul. That he had found the will and ability to love once was miraculous. It had been a feeling so deep and all-encompassing that the thought of knowing it anew was laughable to him, especially for a monster such as himself.

Much to his chagrin, it had come to Erik's attention that his position as the wealthy owner of such a lucrative establishment had attracted a certain kind of woman to seek him out. Thus far all had been wise enough to turn tail and run if they'd gotten even a glimpse of him. But he could imagine a brave few that still might try to insinuate themselves in the life of a rich and powerful man, and there would be no better way than through his only child.

Could Lisa be such a woman? Although he couldn't as yet identify proof of such pretense, he would keep it as a strong possibility, but one he could only test by witnessing her actions firsthand. People were very rarely exactly what they appeared to be. Except for those who were naïve or daft. Everyone in this miserable world was driven by some self-serving motive that was in the best interest of only themselves.

Before this night was through, Erik would know exactly what this interloping woman wanted from them and thwart any attempts to claim any of his power, fame or fortune. His only regret in weeding her out would be Gustave's inevitable disappointment. Through his musings he watched his son shift nervously in the seat next to him. The closer they came to the neglected mansion, the more anxious the boy became.

"If it makes you so nervous to see these people, why do you insist on spending so much time there?" he teased Gustave.

"I'm not nervous about seeing Lisa, it's just…" He trailed off, rescinding what he was about to say.

"It's just me isn't it? You're anxious about me going there. So is this woman the kind of snob to abandon your friendship because you have a masked freak for a father?" he asked incredulously.

"No, of course not, and you're not a freak. I'm just not sure you two will get along. Lisa is very much a free spirit and you've always been so, well, reserved." Gustave had begun wringing his hands, in the same way his mother used to do, Erik realized with an anguished thought.

"I promise to be on my best behavior." Erik tried to reassure in spite of his condescending tone.

"I'm just not too sure what you're best behavior is." Gustave couldn't help chuckling at the mockingly wounded gesture his father made in response to his comment, holding his clasped hands over his heart as if he'd been punched.

"I'll have you know I can be quite charming when the situation calls for it." He said, smiling coyly at his son.

"I guess all I can do is hope for the best." The boy kept smiling as they pulled up to the mansions front gate. Showing Gustave that he seemed to be in enough of a good mood to joke allowed some of the boy's tension to ebb away. As soon as they were stopped, Gustave exited the coach and approached the buzzer. He took one quick moment to make sure that his father had joined him before pushing the button. It was only a few seconds later that a figure emerged from the foliage, but to Gustave's obvious disappointment it was the older colored woman and not the sylph who'd nearly gunned Erik down a few nights ago. She smiled broadly at Gustave as she approached, and only glanced briefly at the tall, thin man that accompanied him.

"Welcome back little one. We were almost afraid you'd forgotten us. And who is this fellow with you today?" she asked, sounding much more interested than her facial expression showed.

"Good evening Kara, this is my father. Mr.…um…" the boy stumbled.

"Destler madam, Erik Destler." as the iron gate creaked open to allow entrance, Erik shocked his son by gently taking Kara's hand and kissing her knuckles in much the same way he'd done upon first meeting her. Seeing the stark contrast of the white porcelain mask against the dark skin of her hand amused Gustave, Kara only raised one eyebrow as she watched Erik straighten.

"How nice to finally meet you sir." responded the woman before turning her attention fully to Gustave. "Now come along, Momma Aguilar has been anxious to hear your playing fill the house again." Neither she nor Gustave saw how Erik bristled at her words. The thought of his ingenious son playing for the entertainment of a group of ridiculous women like a pet made him seethe. "We can't wait till it's all finished. Lisa's almost done with the first canvas and is itching to start another."

"It's done; father and I spent all yesterday working on It." said Gustave.

The pair chatted away as they arrived at the front door and entered the foyer. Distracted with each other, Eric was the first to see, perched on the first floor landing, the strange woman he'd met in the darkness. She was dressed rather boyishly in paint splattered work overalls with her hair covered by a red head scarf. If it weren't for the ever sparking green eyes that floated in her oval face, he'd have thought this could in no way be the vixen that had once stood boldly before him wearing a very immodest negligee.

She saw him too, regarding him stoically before shifting to Gustave. Her face lit up to see the boy, and to Erik's immediate surprise and chagrin he felt a different type of jealousy encase him. How would it feel to have anyone react that way to him? Not even his angel had expressed such a simple joy at his presence, only fear tempered with excitement.

The woman descended the stairs gingerly and when Gustave saw her they shared an affectionate hug. Only after giving the boy her full attention in greeting did she force her eyes to acknowledge Erik's presence.

"And you must be Mr. Destler. Gustave has told me so much about you. I am pleased to finally have the pleasure of making your acquaintance. My name is Mrs. Lisa Angelic Aguilar Faolan." She raised her hand to him, but not in the typically demure way a woman would. Her hand was presented in the typical upright fashion for men to shake hands. Very American, he thought.

Amused, he clasped her feminine paw into his much larger one squeezing just enough to make her feel the potential of his strength. To his surprise she gripped his hand back with much more force than he'd expected from a female. They released each other quickly, as if they'd touched the handle of a steaming teapot without protection and been burned.

"Well, momma would want to meet you right away. Follow me please." Lisa led the way to the east hall, followed by Gustave, Erik and Kara bringing up the rear. They entered the sitting room and were guided to the brightly lit corner wear an old woman sat. She greeted the boy with even more enthusiasm than Lisa had, before finding Erik's inscrutable figure among the ensemble.

"And who do we have here, wearing a mask no less." She produced smascrutinized Erik, marking his mask for just a moment before a wide smile broke across her face from ear to ear. "You must be Gustave's esteemed father, the fantastic Mister Y of Phantasma and Coney Island." Erik was as taken aback by her reaction as he'd been by the screams of those seeing his deformity for the first time. He had to rally himself quickly not to behave badly. The other two must not have divulged his first visit to the matron, or she certainly would not have been so welcoming.

"Destler madam, Erik Destler when away from business and in a social setting." He said, bending low to accept her hand and kiss her knuckles. Lisa's mother obviously had a much better sense of propriety than her daughter, he thought.

"Father, this is Mrs. Gloria Aguilar." said Gustave.

"A pleasure to meet you young man, and that, is it just for business or necessity?" she asked and gestured at the mask. Erik fumbled for just a moment to answer. Gustave, standing next to the lady, went wide eyed waiting for his father's response.

"A bit of both actually."

"I'm sorry if I offended you, but at my age there isn't enough time left to ignore the elephant in the room and not ask the really pertinent questions."

"Not at all, I admire your honesty." He said, giving her as gracious a grin as he could muster.

"Good, good, come and sit. Lisa dear would you please fetch us some refreshments. I hope you don't mind Russian tea?"

"I'm normally partial to Persian blends, but I'm rather fond of the Russian brews as well." Erik settled himself in a high backed chair next to the lady.

"I might have to try it. Given the current political state it's become sometimes difficult to sustain our supply, so we might have to convert."

"It's interesting that you follow international affairs." He remarked.

"You mean because we're women?" she asked.

"I mean because of your lifestyle. Gustave tells me you don't often leave this home." He recovered.

"Ah, yes. Our seclusion does make it cumbersome to keep in touch with the outside world, but we keep subscriptions to all the available periodicals and newspapers. And from our travels we've established correspondents around the globe who are always eager to keep us in the hop." She added with a playful wink. Erik had to admit to himself at that moment, he rather liked this woman. She was open, engaging, quick witted and enthusiastic in spite of her age.

"Interesting, have you any in Paris? I'd love to hear the latest gossip." He said, as he accepted a brimming cup of tea from Lisa. Although she didn't make eye contact while playing the part of dutiful daughter, he was intensely aware that she was hanging on every word.

"Indeed, we have a cousin of my late husbands who lives on the Rue De Rivoli. She is a very good girl who communicates regularly. In fact, just after we lost Armando and Charles we spent nearly two years there. From '93 to '95, if I recall correctly, wasn't it Lisa." She asked her daughter.

"Yes momma, just before coming to NY." Replied Lisa dryly, still going about her work of serving tea to everyone. Erik's hand paused midair at hearing the information. A dark shadow stirred in his mind.

"Really." He finished his sip of the tea, which he would have found delicious if not for the distraction of the conversation.

"Yes, in fact we had the honor of hearing Gustave's dear mother in her first performance and before the destruction of the Garnier." She remarked casually.

"Amazing how small the world is. So you are familiar with those horrific events?" he asked calmly, even though his mind was working furiously.

"Only the ridiculous drivel in the press about some phantom haunting the Opera house, certainly sensationalized for the public's consumption. Gustave tells us you were Mademoiselle Daae's teacher, perhaps you know more?" both Lisa and Gustave had gone slack jawed at the old woman's impertinence.

"Momma," Lisa gasped "I don't think that is any of your business. Please, I'm sure you've embarrassed both our guest enough. Even I'm horrified at your brazenness. Gustave has told us his father is a very private man and I'm sure he doesn't appreciate your prying."

"Oh, I'm sorry dear. My apologies Mr. Destler, at my age the mind tends to run away with itself. And please, don't get upset with Gustave. He only let slip a few minor details. If a little tit for tat is in order, there are plenty of juicy secrets in our family that I'm more than willing to volunteer. After all, I'll be dead soon and my daughter certainly won't pass them on. For instance, I myself had a love affair for 20 years with the son of my employer before the bastard died. At which time we married, and that was Lisa's father. When Lisa fell in love with her Charles, we practically had to bolt her door to keep her from sneaking into his bed." This time it was Lisa who was caught with a mouthful of tea, but she couldn't hold back spraying the liquid all over the floor as her mother divulged such intimate things. A gruesome silence fell upon everyone, until one of them burst into great, huge bouts of laughter. Erik laughed in a way he'd never before in his life, and soon everyone joined him.

Erik knew he'd been wrong. Lisa inherited every bit of her impropriety from this woman. As the hilarity died away, a kind of companionable warmth settled on the party.

"I appreciate your candidness Mrs. Aguilar. It certainly is entertaining." He chanced a glance to Lisa, who was patting a napkin to the floor where the tea had been spat. Thankfully after that, the subject was changed to talk of Coney Island and Phantasma. They chatted easily until dusk fell and Kara announced that dinner was almost ready.

"Perhaps Gustave and I should be going so that you can enjoy your meal." He said, standing to bid them goodbye.

"Nonsense, of course you'll be joining us. Once you've tasted Kara's cooking I'm sure you'll agree she is the finest chef in the tristate area." Erik was about to again decline, but then he caught sight of Gustave's expectant face. The boy was obviously not ready to go. In all his life the only people Erik had ever shared a meal with were his jailer, if you can consider tossing scraps into a cage sharing, and Gustave. He was not eager to break tradition now, especially since the mask made it difficult to eat, but he was practically incapable of denying his son anything and nodded his consent.

"Wonderful, perhaps Gustave can go help Kara set the table. Lisa, why don't you give Mr. Destler a quick tour of the house? If you don't mind I'm going to take a few minutes to freshen up." She said, rising slowly with Gustave's help. Lisa sighed deeply at her mother's instructions.

"Yes momma. Gustave, you know the way. Mr. Destler, if you'll follow me." They all exited the sitting room together and went as far as the kitchen to deliver the boy. Mrs. Aguilar disappeared into a washroom directly across from the sitting room while Lisa and Erik proceeded to the foyer in silence. Lacking an iota of the enthusiasm of her mother, she took him through the first floor rooms. He marked the very lived in looking library with books overflowing the shelves and piles of newspapers littering most surfaces, and a small music room with a small spinet tucked into a corner. She skipped the studio where they had their first encounter a few days before. Erik said nothing as she led him up the central stair to the second floor landing and showed him other compartments in the east and west wings. It wasn't until she opened the doors in the north hall that he was compelled to speak. The last rays of sun were filling the room with light, making the golden floors and walls shimmer. The piano in the corner gleamed pearly white in the wash of sunlight. Erik's eyes fixed upon the instrument, and instinctively he imagined the sounds it could produce to fill the room.

"Like father like son." Lisa said under her breath.

"I beg your pardon." Erik said annoyed at having his revelry broken.

"Gustave had the same reaction. I nearly had to drag him away before he pounced on it. I can understand how it calls to you though, like the way a blank canvas calls me." She said.

"I'm not sure that is an accurate comparison."

"That's really too bad. Perhaps Gustave gets his intuitiveness from his mother." Erik's back straightened as he turned slowly to regard Lisa. He took one long calculated step towards her. His demeanor was hostile in spite of his stillness.

"You seem to think you know quite a lot about my son."

"I know only what I see and feel, and it's enough for me to trust my heart."

"Just like a woman, to allow feeling and sentiment to drive them and not see the real dangers around them."

"And how typical of a man to ignore the obvious truths around them and be oblivious to the sentiments of others, especially those who care for them." He knew she was referring to Gustave. Anger started to bubble in Erik's gut at the implication of her statement. He already felt the emotional strain on the boy that he was helpless to alleviate with his very limited understanding of the human heart, and for this stranger to somehow hit the mark of that failing made him feel as exposed as a wounded cat.

"I recommend you keep your assumptions to yourself about my family and spend more time trying to master your own." He intended the quip to cut deep, instead a smile lifted the corners of her mouth, making her entire face animate in a way that made Erik's stomach flutter.

"I think I prefer my mother as she is. After all, she made you laugh, something of a rare occurrence I'd wager."

"There can be no question where you get your manners."

"I thought it best not to tell momma of your first visit. As you see, she doesn't hold back her opinions and would probably have scolded you like a disobedient pup. I'm surprised you came though. I rather expected you to forbid Gustave ever to return here, and certainly didn't expect for you to appear at our door." The smile was gone as she spoke, replaced by a disdainful tone.

"I considered it, and am not really convinced it's a good idea to allow him to continue his visits." Erik's manner had shifted and his voice had gone flat and unfeeling.

"It's your prerogative, but I hope you won't allow your own prejudice to sway you." She said, with a definite air of scorn about her.

"My 'prejudices' having nothing to do with the issue, but I am no fool." He was losing patience, and began to feel more antagonistic.

"I wouldn't call a man capable of breaking into another's home foolish, maybe idiotic though."

"You have no idea what I am capable of, so I recommend you take better care then to taunt me."

"You underestimate me. I have a very good idea of what you're capable of." Lisa tried to turn away and exit into the hallway, but Erik caught her wrist and held her in place.

"What could you possibly know?" Erik's voice, though too low to carry, had become harsh and threatening. He towered over her, bearing down upon her with all the malice he could muster through his stance and demeanor. But she stood strong against it, refusing to be brought to heal like a horse that'd been broken. In one quick movement Lisa yanked her arm from Erik's grip. She kept her own voice low, but piercing.

"It's all in your eyes. I think you're essentially a good man, and I can see what Gustave sees. But there is a dangerous fire in you. Genius and obsessiveness; you're jealously possessive of what you feel entitled to, and have killed to defend it. And I dare say you are still quite capable of murder. You're insightful, observant and creative like Gustave. You are also volatile and ferociously guard the things important to you. You feel threatened easily and are suspicious of everyone and everything around you. Traits I'm sure you've developed out of necessity. But for all your strengths, you are a man living in pain and fear." She punctuated the last statement like and accusation. Erik was floored and fought not to show it. Had it not been for the imminent interruption he might have succumb to the impulse of wrapping his fingers around the woman's throat. They both heard the sounds of shoes climbing the steps as they stood nose to nose.

Over Lisa's head Erik saw Gustave and Kara come into view. Not wanting to disturb the boy, Erik took a step back and consciously relaxed his body. It was an amazing transformation in the eyes of Lisa who witnessed it. She too reworked her appearance as she turned to greet the new arrivals.

"I'm sorry to cut the tour short, but dinner is served. Momma Aguilar is already seated in the dining room." announced Kara. Not wanting to give the advantage to Lisa, Erik approached her and offered his arm as if to escort her to dinner. Lisa held back the sneer that threatened and accepted it. Although the pair was too distracted by their animosity to notice, Kara saw the look they exchanged as their bodies came in contact. The quartet left the ballroom and headed to the dining room. Each took their seats, Erik and Gustave to Mrs. Aguilar's right, Lisa and Kara to the left. The conversation continued in much the same manner as it had before between Erik, Gustave and the matron. Lisa remained a quiet observer, speaking only occasionally to balk at her mother's brazenness.

When the meal was over, and the empty desert dishes had been taken away, Mrs. Aguilar tried to persuade her guests to linger, but the day's excitement had taken its toll and it was clear she needed rest. Conceding her exhaustion in the end, she extended the invitation of another evening and bid them good night. To what was Erik's obvious horror, she pulled him down into a warmhearted hug as she did with Gustave.


	11. Ruminations

CHAPTER 11 Ruminations

Lisa walked the pair through the overgrown drive to unlock and release them from the property. A tall gangly fellow appeared from the front of a strange horseless carriage as they exited. Clad in a very ornate and formal tuxedo complete with coat tails, he seemed like a Geist that had stumbled from the great beyond to haunt them. He stepped up to the coach with great fanfare and opened the door.

"Good evening master." said the driver in an accent that was unequivocally Russian. Lisa couldn't help letting out an audible guffaw at the lordly title.

"Master, did he really just call you master?" she chided and thought for a moment that it was all an act being put on for her benefit, but the heated look Erik gave her told what he thought of her reaction. The boy on the other hand smiled broadly at Lisa's comment.

Gustave's initial nervousness had stemmed enough for him to give Lisa a quick hug before disappearing into the strange motorized coach. Over the boy's shoulder, his father, the infamous Mister Y of Coney Island, had given her a scathing look.

His father disappeared like a phantom into the dark space night had made of the vehicles interior, but she could see Gustave waving at her animatedly as the servant closed the door. Once out of view of his "master" the driver gave Lisa a mischievous grin and wink.

It surprised her to think how well practiced Erik seemed to be in commanding others, and how easily his menacing manners had slipped past her like water off a ducks back. For her, his attempts to intimidate and control were a worthless effort. Unlike other women, she'd been raised to know her own mind and strength of will. Lisa's upbringing had been far from sheltered. For which she was very thankful. The richness of her life experiences and the memory of her husband and father's enormous affection is what made her self-imposed seclusion tolerable.

Lisa's analysis had irked him. She knew that a lot could be learned by observing a person closely when they were stressed or trying to put forth a façade of strength, and it was obvious Mr. Destler was a man used to having his orders obeyed with very little debate. It wasn't hard for Lisa to surmise why. The walls he held firmly in place around him were a prison only a history of intense hate, anger, resentment and fear could form. But there was a solid representation of that barrier most people didn't have.

The papers had mentioned the mask he'd worn as something of a publicity stunt, advertising the Coney Island Park and the freak show that was its main attraction. Having seen the man up close she now knew there was more to that story. He wore it like a piece of armor, and he'd been wearing it long enough that it was like a second skin.

The mask had been made to fit the exact form of his face and mimic the features of his left side, implying to her that its intent was to hide and detract from what it held underneath. Its edges had been cut to cover the hairline above the right ear all the way to the left end of the brow, and from there the perfect lines could only be achieved by the design of a wig. He was hiding beneath the stark white porcelain something of which he was ashamed.

Lisa pondered carefully the man she'd met, and for a long time it wasn't his wig or mask that lingered in her mind's eye, it was his eyes. Gustave had the same eyes, blue grey and burning with an inner spark. For the boy there was no menace in them like in his fathers, instead there was unguarded warmth and the wealth of feeling that had made Lisa reach out to him that first night.

In the fathers eyes, Erik's eyes, there was a threat there, like the eyes of a tiger peering through the bars of its cage, hungry and alive with a ravenous intent. Those eyes, she'd have to paint them one day, if only to release the ghost of them that had begun to form in her thoughts. They had conveyed so much to her in the short time she had to inspect them.

He was very threatened by Lisa's friendship with Gustave, and every glance he'd shot her way told her in no uncertain terms his opinion of it. Given his attitude it had surprised Lisa that he'd agreed to allow Gustave to continue his visits, but it had given Lisa her own reason to be annoyed when she saw him standing in the foyer. If her mother had known of the events of a few nights ago, he'd never have been allowed in the mansion again. And knowing the great lady, she probably would have called her lawyer Mr. Westervelt to inquire about gaining custody of the boy.

Lisa could understand Erik's point of view, even though he'd mocked her. From all she'd learned from Gustave, his father and mother had deeply loved each other and her loss had been a trauma too great to truly overcome for either of them. There were memories to rich and powerful to ever give way for new ones. Loss was a sad lesson of life that came with age and tragedy. Unfortunately it was a lesson Gustave had learned at far too young an age. No child should have to grow up without their mother, as much as no mother should have to live through the death of a child, it was just unnatural.

Lisa wasn't fool enough to excuse her draw to Gustave as completely selfless. She understood that he represented a small taste of the experience she'd never have. She couldn't offer Gustave the motherly love she knew he needed, but she was more than willing to give this special boy her friendship. She just had to be careful, for his sake as much as hers.

Even before Charles death, Lisa had seen enough of the world to know that the love they'd shared was rare and precious. Few people were fortunate enough to find it once in a lifetime, and she'd never seen someone double blessed in that regard. She'd been lucky just to have it for a few brief years, and as for the joy and promise of motherhood, that one chance was dead along with her beloved husband. Lisa couldn't even imagine allowing another man to touch her without it causing her gut to twist.

Then there were the nightmares, depicting events that mercifully she could not remember in her waking mind. She'd once considered adopting one of the scores of children crowding the cities orphanages, but the world was a dangerous place. If she came to love a child as her own and lose it tragically, she didn't think she'd be able to survive the grief. It had only been because of the need to care for her mother that she'd come through Charles death. In setting all her energy and focus in caring for her mother, Lisa had been able to ignore the wounds on her soul that still bled.

She was sure Erik had similar injuries, so his consternation about the time and affection his son spent on complete strangers was not beyond Lisa's comprehension. She would do her best not to overstep her boundaries, especially if it would keep his overbearing presence out of her hair and home.

Lisa let out a huff as she remembered his first visit, and suddenly felt a little wistful. Was it becoming her nature to barely bat an eye to men who broke into her home? Why hadn't she been angry with him? How could she have excused his audacity? She managed to convince herself quickly that it was all for Gustave's sake and left it at that. Had she been less sure of her own misleading sense of control, the suddenly heavy thud of her heart against her sternum might have made her more on guard.


	12. Old Friends

Chapter 12

Antoinette had never been a patient person, except when circumstances left her no choice. Such was the case today. Once a week she would meet with her employer to review the current status of the show; discussing every aspect of the dancer's performance from costumes to choreography. The master demanded better than perfection, and she felt more than obligated to deliver. She sat quietly in the front hall of the man's home, waiting for his return. He was more than an hour overdue, but she would not move until attended.

Although her anxiety and frustration were peaked to an all-time high, to anyone watching her she seemed the epitome of calm. After all, she could never be sure that he wasn't watching. There was a time when knowing that gave her an electric thrill, but now it just added to the constant disquiet that had settled into the pit of her stomach.

She still expected at any moment to be banished like her daughter had been. The thought sent a shiver through her body. It was a notion that swept her thoughts daily. Considering the circumstances, things could have turned out much worse. If only Meg hadn't lost control and threatened to kill the boy. If only she hadn't antagonized the situation by pushing the young woman. If only Christine had stayed away.

They all had blame and guilt to shoulder about what had happened. And now, they all lived with the consequences. Christine Daae was dead. Her accidental killer, Meg Giry had been sent away to Chicago to dance in nightclubs for foul gangsters and other criminals. Perhaps it was iniquitous of her to feel some justice in seeing HIM suffer as well.

Every time Antoinette saw the man who'd directed their destinies, he was less and less the enigmatic genius she had once worshipped. He'd endured a lifetime of torture, torment and rejection, but it was Christine's passing that had finally broken him. That was his penance; hers was the end to all she'd dreamed for herself and her child, and Megs… she shivered again to imagine it.

In letters and during very short phone calls she'd insist that everything was going swimmingly, but a mother could tell that it was a lie. Antoinette hadn't seen her daughter for nearly 3 years, except for a grainy photo from the local gazette that showed the company of entertainers. Meg stood unsmiling in the back among the chorus of dancers. Not a lead or with any promise to ever be again. She looked too thin and aged more than a decade than she should have been.

Antoinette tried to remind herself that it could have been much worse. After the incident on the pier she'd intended to run away with Meg before the master could turn his attention to them, but Meg insisted she needed to face what she'd done for the sake of her friend and the child. Reluctantly she'd agreed. To her immense relief HE had moved quick to halt any police investigation, wanting neither his professional or personal life exposed.

He was still a wanted man in Paris, and there was the boy to think about now. The Vicomte had also surprisingly agreed, being in a bad position himself by the death of his wife and financial hardships. But the boy, he shouldn't have to shoulder the sins of his parents. He was the only casualty in this mess that she resented. It was her belief that he should have been sent away from all those involved; if not to live with the Vicomte, then to a boarding school or as a ward to another wealthy family.

Instead the master had snatched him up like the boy was some kind of reparation. She considered it the greatest folly. The father could only destroy the lives he touched. He was simply incapable of living a normal life, regardless of how much he longed for it. It wasn't just his face that was mangled beyond repair; it was his soul as well.

Antoinette no longer played a leading role in the master's dealings. She'd been demoted to managing only the show in Phantasma's concert hall. Powerless and purposefully kept at a distance, but always watched carefully. Maybe he only kept her around because of how much she knew, or because she alone had been the true companion of his life from the moment she'd hidden him from the gypsies under the Opera house. She wasn't sure he was even capable of gratitude, but she was grateful that Meg hadn't ended up in prison or at the end of a hangman's noose.

The ticking of a nearby clock caught her attention. She pulled out a small watch from her pocket and saw that he was now 2 hours late. The house was silent, so the boy must be with them. Could they be at the park? No, she would have encountered them at some point. That fool tutor had been the one to answer the door when she arrived, but he'd had no information of his employer's whereabouts and had run back upstairs to his room mumbling incoherently about being allowed peace to wright.

She stood slowly, hesitant to overstep her boundaries and suffer the master's wrath, but needing to know what had caused this break in normality with him. Moving carefully Antoinette headed to the back of the home to find the only other person in residence. She entered the kitchen with slow small steps till she found her quarry. A short squat woman sat in the corner by the large brick oven reading a book. She didn't look up when the woman entered, but perked up noticeably.

"They are out for the evening, having supper in the city." said the cook flatly.

"Where?" asked Madam Giry authoritatively. The cook only raised her eyes for a moment to inspect her visitor before returning to her novel.

"It's not my business. I only just received a call that I had the night off and that was enough for me. Said they wouldn't be back till late too, so I suggest you reschedule." She concluded.

Antoinette huffed out her displeasure before turning and exiting the room. Everyone seemed to take advantage of her situation and treated her with so little of the respect she deserved. It unnerved her at the best of times and she had to work hard to keep her temper in check, but right now she was more curious than concerned. Where would a masked man go to dine with his illegitimate son? Whatever was happening, it could only end badly she was sure.

She wrote a quick note, put it on a table in the front hall and left the house. She'd have to keep her eyes and ears open to find out what was going on. Rumors had begun to spread around the park that the masters waning interest in Phantasma was a sign that he'd be giving it up. What if he were meeting with a buyer, or his lawyer to arrange closing the facility? What else could it be? Her mind was a jumble of all the horrible possibilities as the carriage rattled down the lane.

She knew he was more than capable of disappearing, damning all he left behind on a whim if the desire struck him, but what of the boy? This was his inheritance. What if he'd finally decided to give up fatherhood and gone to relocate the child. She had to find out, and she would.


	13. A cry for help

Chapter 13 A cry for help

It was hard for Gustave to imagine things having gone any better. His father's introduction to the ladies had been interesting, but still an unmitigated success in his eyes. In the weeks that followed his father no longer gave him harsh looks at just the mention of his friends, nor did he actively try to deter him from visiting. But Gustave could see that there was definite resentment brewing, and he was starting to feel guilty with each passing day.

The boy could feel a fissure growing between him and his father. Remembering how the Vicomte had distanced himself from his wife and child made Gustave fearful that his real father could also be lost to him. He endeavored than to give the man some of the joy he'd found, but it was an imposing goal.

Erik had refused every offer or invitation Gustave made to accompany him back to the mansion, and often would make him-self scarce on those days he knew the boy would make his visits, as if he didn't want to be reminded.

Then there was Mr. Gangle, who had been appointed his escort on every visit. Gustave knew he was reporting back to his father. It didn't bother him really, but it showed that the man was still incredibly uneasy about the women.

The boy was soon at a loss at what he could do to alleviate his father's worries. He even asked Lisa one day what he should do. She'd become his confidant and Gustave felt she was a part of his life he never wanted to be without.

"Maybe he just needs time?" she said. Lisa had seen the sour look on Gustave's face as he sat at the spinet in the music room. It made her ache to solve all his troubles.

"No. He's just shut down. He doesn't really know how to express himself except through his music; otherwise it just builds up until it explodes."

"He sounds rather immature. Um, explodes how?" She asked, anxious concern filling her stomach.

"Not violently I mean he's not that kind of man. He just says things, and makes accusations. I don't really understand sometimes, but I'm sure it has to do with how he grew up. It's not his fault. He didn't grow up like normal people. I don't know everything, but I know he was put into one of those old European carnivals as a child. So he didn't have parents or friends. He's never really had anyone; even now he doesn't have friends. Except for Madam Giry maybe, but she's not really around much." A sudden lump caught in Gustave's throat.

"Is that a… special friend of his?" Lisa inquired, unsure of why she felt apprehensive about the answer.

Gustave understood the nature of her question, and though he'd considered many possibilities about the relationship between Giry and his father he was very sure it wasn't romantic.

"No. My father doesn't have relationships like that, not that I've ever seen anyway. He's only ever talked about my mother that way, when he does talk about her at all." He paused for a long moment before continuing. He never liked talking about the Giry's and didn't know why he'd even mentioned the dance mistress.

"They came over from France with him and helped him start his business; her and her daughter, Meg." It was hard for him to say the name. Gustave realized suddenly that he couldn't remember ever saying the name of the woman who'd been the instrument of his mother's death before this moment.

Lisa had been carefully examining a canvas. She had started applying a base coat of amber and turquoise paint to when she heard a soft whimper from behind her where the boy sat. Instinctively she turned and went to sit next to him, putting her arms around him and pulling him close to console.

"Oh my dear, did I upset you with all my questions? I'm so sorry." She stroked his head lightly as he rested against her shoulder. After a few seconds Gustave straightened and looked up into her emerald eyes. Her caring concern immediately lifted a heavy weight in Gustave's chest.

"It's not that. You see, Miss Giry is the one who shot my mother. It was an accident of course, but she'd been actually pretending that she was going to drown me. Then she let me go and pulled out a gun and put it to her own head. Mother had tried to cover my eyes, but I knew what was happening. Father tried to stop her and they struggled, then the gun went off and mother fell." His voice finally broke and the tears spilled slowly on a stifled sob, but he regained his composure quickly.

"Oh my, you don't have to tell me any more if it hurts too much. It's really not my business anyway." She said, trying to keep from shedding the tears that threatened.

"Actually I feel a little better saying it all aloud. I've never spoken of it with anyone really, even father. But I can trust you and I know you care." Gustave smiled up at her, understanding at once that Lisa had been a blessing to his life.

He thought for a moment that he'd be betraying his mother's memory by loving Lisa, but his mother had always taught him to be thankful for having people in his life to love and be loved by. True and lasting friends were always a blessing she would always say, and he should never take them for granted. That he should always cherish and honor them.

"Oh darling, thank you. You mean so much to me." Lisa wanted to say so much more, but in the moment that was all she could muster.

"After she was shot my mother told me about Mister Y, my father. I was so scared I ran off, so I wasn't there when she died. I went and found the Vicomte to get help. She was gone when we got back. Father was weeping over her." He took a moment to let the memory of that other time pass. Gustave felt so guilty about his actions on that night he could barely breathe.

Lisa had pulled a lace kerchief from her pocket and had begun dabbing his eyes. She was going to let him say all he'd holding back for all these years. She was happy being the outlet he needed to find comfort, though she knew there couldn't be closure until father and son could face the past together.

"Father sent Miss Giry away to dance in a hall in Chicago after the funeral. He told me that she and my mother had been great friends since they were children and she wouldn't want her friend in jail. Her mother, madam Giry, stayed behind and still works at Phantasma." He said looking and feeling dried out.

"Does it bother you that she is there?" Lisa asked. She found it hard to believe that he'd forgiven those responsible for Miss Daae's death, even for someone as charitable as this amazing child.

"Not really. I understand that she's very sad about what happened, and that Meg was sent away." He said.

Lisa wanted to understand more. She felt that Gustave needed more answers as to why his precious mother had been stolen from him. If she could, she'd help guide him to those answers and through the emotions of their revelation.

"Maybe you should ask your father more about what happened. Maybe he needs some help to talk about it too?" she offered.

"I don't think I could do that. It would hurt him too much and he's already suffered so much." He explained. Lisa was getting frustrated with the idea of a father who put so much on a child's shoulders.

She had learned that it was in Gustave's nature to think more of the people he loved than himself, but he sacrificed his own needs in doing so. It was a load so young a child should not have to carry. His ability to love unconditionally was a rare jewel in an increasingly cynical world, especially considering the heartbreak he'd endured. That he didn't hold some resentment or hatred for the Giry's was a concept hard for even Lisa to fathom given her own history. But being so sensitive a child made Gustave more vulnerable to other people's petulance, and more likely to become a victim of their corrosiveness. Especially that of the man he idolized.

"You shouldn't be made to feel responsible for maintaining your father's mental health." She stated.

"But I am all he has. If I don't take care of him no one else will." He contested.

"Unfortunately just loving someone isn't enough to make them happy. They have to be willing to do what is needed and make the changes that need making. Otherwise you're just going to go down with the ship. I'm sure your mother would want you both to be happy, but not for you to sacrifice yourself on his behalf." Lisa knew she was sounding exasperated, but she couldn't help her growing concern for Gustave's situation. "Have you tried talking to him about how you feel?"

"I don't think I know how."

"You're able to talk to me about it."

"Because I know you'll understand, but he gets frustrated and angry so easily, and I know it hurts him." Gustave huffed out a frustrated sigh, feeling defeated. Lisa pulled him close again, wishing to relieve the strain.

"I know its hard Gustave, but the most you can do is try. What more can you do? Just don't blame yourself for his failings. It breaks my heart to see you suffer needlessly." She told him, trying to sound as comforting as possible.

"I'm not suffering, just sad." He didn't resist the embrace. While she held him, Lisa's mind was filled with all that had been said. A man raised in a circus, no parents, no family, and no friends, now expected to raise a son on his own. Could such a man be seen as more than a child himself? Especially never having learned the social skills necessary for survival in such a cruel and unforgiving world?

She was sure the man had found ways to cope with his situation, but not the kind of skills that should be passed on to an innocent child. Lisa leaned back to look into the young man's eyes. They held so much innate wisdom and compassion that the weight he carried seemed to be a herculean feat.

"Come on; let's go bother Kara in the kitchen. Maybe we can convince her to make chocolate mousse. Then when momma gets up from her nap we can take her to walk in the garden. I think there's a new litter of kittens hiding out there." Gustave gave her a weak smile and they both headed out of the room.


	14. One step forward, two steps back

CHAPTER 14 Atonement

Gustave pondered Lisa's words all of that night and the next day. By the time he took his place across from his father at tea time he'd made up his mind to address the issue. Mechanically, Gustave had inquired about the park status and his father had given routine answers before asking the boy about his studies, to which Gustave made the standard reply. They sat quietly for some time while the boy rallied his courage. It was a loud silence, the latest of many that had become the norm of their lives, especially in the months since Gustave had start going to the mansion. Finally he found enough nerve to start the difficult conversation with his father.

"Father, how have you been doing?" he asked.

"I'm fine, why do you ask?" responded his father, not bothering to look up from a pamphlet he was reading.

"Well... It seems you've been a bit… melancholy lately." the boy said in almost a whisper.

"I'm fine." Erik's senses were peaked. This wasn't the kind of conversation he expected.

"Why don't you come with me to visit Mrs. Aguilar? Maybe some time out will help you feel better. It seemed you enjoyed your time there before."

"They're your friends Gustave, not mine. It was an act solely for your benefit." Slowly Erik put down the paper and folded his hands on his lap, regarding his son with his full attention.

"But you don't have any friends. You wouldn't be so lonely if you had some too." said Gustave in a suddenly frustrated voice.

"I don't need friends. I have you and that's more than enough for Me." said the man, feeling the building of tension in the room between him and the child.

"But it's not enough and you're not happy with just me. Lisa says you don't want to try and you're going to take me down with the ship. I don't want either of us to go down with the ship. I don't want to lose you like I did the Vicomte." Gustave was trying his best to tell his father what he was feeling, but Erik heard something very different.

"The Vicomte, I am nothing like that wretch." Erik was losing the battle with his anger and annoyance with that woman. "That presumptuous harlot! How dare she fill your head with such dribble? Don't you see what she's doing; she's trying to turn you against me. She making her play and I will not stand for it. I knew it."

"No, this has nothing to do with her. She's just trying to help me."

"By telling you I was like the Vicomte, a drunken fool that neglected and resented you! Can't you see she's playing on your weaknesses, drawing you in by discrediting me? Well, it's not going to happen. I forbid you from ever seeing that witch again! I'll see her at the bottom of the east river before I let her influence you further!" Erik had a nearly manic look on his face as he spoke. Although the boy didn't know all the details of his father's past, he knew that it wasn't just an idle threat being made.

Both the thought of being separated from Lisa, Mrs. Aguilar and Kara or any harm coming to them made heated blood rush into Gustave's veins. He leaped from the chair, trembling with hurt and anger.

"Don't you dare harm any of them? I'll hate you forever if you hurt them, and you can't keep me from seeing them either. I can't go on living like this, without a mother or a father." Gustave regretted the words the moment they'd left his lips. His father fell back into his chair, the sudden rise of tears instantly spilling out of his shocked eyes.

They stared at each other for several long moments. Both had been cut deep by the exchange. Gustave had for the first time touched the anger within him and expressed the temper he'd inherited from his father. Gustave was trembling with fierceness of his outburst, but he almost instantly felt ashamed of what he'd said.

"I'm so sorry father, I didn't mean it. I love you, I just… "He tried to speak through barely restrained tears.

"No, I don't want to hear it. Get out." said the man in a broken whisper. Gustave tried to move around the table and reach out to him, but Erik stood quickly and moved away as if he feared being struck. "NO, GET OUT!" he yelled.

The boy looked into his father's eyes, but instead of seeing the pain there, he saw a look of cold annoyance and disdain, the same that had been commonplace when the Vicomte was his father. At that moment Gustave could no longer see beyond his own pain and became so enraged he stormed out of the room without another word. He ran to his room, slammed the door hard behind him and landed sprawling on his coverlet. His mind was a jumble of all the fear and sorrow he'd been fighting for over three years.

A part of him wanted to collapse into a ball, while another wanted to scream and rant, and yet another wanted to run to get away from all the things hurting him, and the memories. Gustave stared unseeing out of his window until the sky outside became black. He'd not turned on the light of his room. He wasn't sure what time it was when he was finally compelled to get up and act.

He could see the wind starting to whip through the trees next to the house. It didn't deter him in the least after having made up his mind. He packed only a few things; a change of clothes, a leather-bound portfolio of music sheets, and a few mementos of his mother. Making no more sound than a mouse, he left his room and the home he'd made with his father.

There was only one place he knew he could go, but by the time he'd reached his destination the skies had opened up to a torrential downpour. Gustave had to raise his hand as a shield against the fierce droplets when he gazed up to find the outline of the mansion beyond the locked gate. There were no lights on within, and the buzzer made no sound when he pressed it.

Believing he had no other option, Gustave secured his pack onto his back and began climbing the gate. His foot slipped several times before he made it to the top and swung his body over, but when he tried to find a hold for the descent his foot slipped on a curly cue of metal. He flailed wildly as he fell toward the concrete below and landed with a hard thud on the muddy ground.


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15 Atonement

Despite the heavy rain that normally would soothe her, Lisa had tossed and turned all night. The sky was still purple when she had gotten out of bed, bathed and dressed. Neither Kara nor her mother would awaken for at least 2 more hours, so she decided to take a walk outside in spite of the muddy mess the garden was sure to be and the chill in the air that signaled an early autumn. Lisa never minded, because there was always something fresh about the world after storm. She decided to start out the front door, but before she could disappear into the dense foliage something strange caught her eye. It looked like a pile of clothes had been tossed onto the driveway, but as she approached it her heart fell.

"Oh my god Gustave, what are you doing here?" she ran to where the boys silent body lay. Gently she turned him to face up and almost screamed at the sight. His face was ashen grey, his lips and eyelids were purple, and blood had collected on the stone beneath his head from a large abrasion where it had struck the pavement. Working only on instinct and calling forth all the strength she had, Lisa collected the limp body against her and moved as quickly as she could back to the foyer. When she reached it she yelled out for Kara with a voice so loud it startled her, but she didn't slow down and climbed the stairs two at a time until she reached the second floor landing. She kicked open the door of the first bedroom on her right and rushed the boy to the bed. Once she laid him down she ran back down to the front of the house to the telephone.

"Lisa, what in god's name is going on? Why are you screaming to wake the dead? Holy father, where did that come from?" Kara had seen the blood staining Lisa's shirt and lunged forward to check her.

"It's not mine, it's Gustave's. I found him outside on the pavement; he must have tried to climb the gate and fallen. He's in the first guestroom, go upstairs and check on him, I need to call Dr. Gilles." Kara didn't question her any further and moved as fast as she could to inspect the child. Lisa's hands were trembling as she lifted the receiver, but her voice was calm as she spoke to the operator and then the physician. When he'd given her instructions and promised to be there in just a few minutes, Lisa asked to be connected to Erik Destler. The pressure of her heart thudding in her chest was deafening against the silence as she waited to be connected.

"What do you want?" said the harsh voice that came on the line.

"Gustave is hurt." She sputtered out.

"What are you talking about? Gustave is here." He replied.

"No. He's here, I just found him outside in the driveway. He must have tried to climb the fence and fell. The fuses blew last night so it wouldn't have worked if he'd tried the buzzer. I've called my doctor and he's on his way. I think he hit his head, he's unconscious and there's blood on the pavement." Lisa rambled on, no longer aware of what she was saying. There was only silence from the other end of the line. "Hello, hello, are you there?"

"Yes, I'll be right there." His voice was much calmer than hers, and Lisa was suddenly maddened by it.

"But what happened, why is he here?" she demanded.

"We… we had a disagreement. It's my fault, all my fault. Please, I can't lose him. Not now, not like this." The voice became smaller with every breath until all Lisa could hear was the desperate panting of the man on the other end.

"Just get here as quick as you can." She replaced receiver without ringing off and opened the front door to see if the physician had arrived. Lisa ran back down the driveway, not daring to look at the red mark on the ground, and unlocked the gate. Just as she was about to turn back, a carriage pulled up and the doctor exited it. Not stopping for pleasantries they immediately headed into the mansion. Lisa ran up the stairs 2 at a time, leaving the middle aged man behind her. He was huffing and wheezing when he joined her on the landing. She took his hand and dragged him to the room where he rushed to his patient.

"How did you manage to get him up here?"

"I carried him." Lisa replied, surprised at his question. The doctor looked back at her briefly before continuing with his work. Kara had already removed the wet soppy clothing and wrapped Gustave in a thick blanket. Lisa hadn't checked for a pulse or breathing, refusing to even consider the horrific possibility that there would be none. She was now relieved to see that already some color had returned to Gustave's cheeks proving there was blood flow in his living body.

Every second seemed like an hour while Lisa watched the doctor examine the boy. He went through several instruments in his bag to assess the child's condition. Lisa than heard the telltale signs of another presence in the manor as the front door was flung open. She dashed to the first floor landing to see the frantic figure of Erik Destler looking around like a lost child. When he saw her appear he bounded up the stairs to meet her and she led him to where the others were.

Dr. Gillis was now standing, he looked up from the boy when she and Erik entered the room. He was surprised for only a moment at the site of the wild eyed masked man.

"Dr. Gillis, this is Erik Destler. He's Gustave's father. This is my private phys… "She tried.

"Is he alive? Will he be alright? What can I do?" stammered Erik. Dr. Gillis raised one silencing hand to be able to answer.

"He's suffered a mild head trauma, so he'll have to be closely monitored for the next several hours especially till he regains consciousness. And there might be an infection from the time he spent exposed to the elements, but his vital signs are strong and he is young enough that he should make a full recovery. I'll need to contact my office for additional equipment and to consult with a specialist."

Lisa escorted the doctor to the telephone. She looked back once to see the stricken face of the man looking down at his son. Kara moved off to attend and update Mrs. Aguilar as to what had happened. Once Lisa had situated the doctor with all he needed, she hurried back to the guestroom.

Lisa's eyes found Erik next to the bed. He'd fallen to his knees and buried his face in the pillow next to his son's head. He was quietly sobbing, and his shoulders shook as he wept. Lisa didn't know what compelled her to go to him. She lowered herself down on the floor to his left and extended one arm to drape around his shoulders. He reacted immediately to her touch, taking a sharp inhalation of breath and lifting his head to stare at her. He said nothing, and just looked at her as if she were a ghost that had materialized next to him. Lisa gazed back, suddenly feeling kindred with this man. They may have been at odds over Gustave, but in that moment they shared in each other's dismay.

Their attention was only broken when Lisa noticed movement from the bed. Gustave was lethargically trying to open his eyes and turn his head towards the sound of the people next to him.

"Gustave, can you hear me? I'm here; you're going to be alright. Please, speak to me." Pleaded Erik, in a voice so raw it clutched at Lisa's heart. Gustave was still fighting the heaviness of his eyelids, and blinked like he was trying to clear his vision. Lisa rose off the floor and rushed to find Dr. Gillis. In a few minutes they returned and he settled on the other side of the bed to inspect the boy.

"Father, what happened?" he finally managed to say with a very raspy and slightly slurred voice. Erik couldn't help but smile down at him.

"You're as stubborn as your mother. You ran away and hit your head. Lisa found you and called me." He made his voice as gentle as he could.

"Lisa?" Gustave's head swiveled to find her standing at the foot of the bed, and then turned back to his father with a worried look. "Please don't be angry. It's not her fault. I was just being stupid."

"I know, calm yourself. Don't worry, I'm not angry. I'm just happy you're alright. We're both here and we're both concerned only for you." The masked man spoke reassuringly to his son, but it was a lie. He was indeed furious, though he couldn't tell if he was more upset with Lisa or himself.

Lisa moved to fill the space Dr. Gillis left as he'd stood and stepped back from the bed. She reached up and stroked Gustave's cheek as she spoke to him.

"It's alright Gustave, we're both here. We just want you to be alright." Lisa's voice caught as her fingers instinctively moved to feel around the child's face and neck. When she'd brought him upstairs his skin had been so cold she feared he was already lost, now it seemed like a fire had been lit in his flesh. "Dr. Gillis, he's got a fever." The doctor nodded and gestured for both Erik and Lisa to join him across the room. Reluctantly, they both rose to join him.

"His body is reacting to the shock of his injuries and that's why he has a fever. His immune system has also been compromised. It's best he remain stationary until he's in better shape, perhaps a week or two." Both Lisa and Erik heaved a heavy sigh, causing the doctor to raise an eyebrow.

"Is that going to be a problem?" he questioned.

"Of course not," Lisa replied, sounding a bit more sharply than she meant to. "Mr. Destler is welcome to stay here as well while Gustave recovers. The room next door is empty and always ready for visitors, so he can be close by. I'm prepared to do anything for our friend." Erik glanced over to her fleetingly, noting how she responded in the singular, Dr. Gillis than looked at him for acknowledgment.

"Yes, anything for my son's well-being." He responded in a forced whisper. "And money is no object, whatever he needs I can pay for." Erik emphasized to the physician. The doctor nodded at the man, but gave a silent wink to Lisa as he continued. Dr. Gillis was very well paid already from the Aguilar family estate to be on call for them. He served only a handful of clients from the richest families in the city, so his payment would never be in question. Lisa suspected this might be a point of pride for Erik and was thankful Dr. Gillis knew better then to pursue the topic.

"I need to ask you some questions about his family history. Is there any history of respiratory problems or any other… hereditary conditions?" Dr. Gillis glanced briefly to Erik's mask to emphasize his meaning. Erik immediately tensed and gave the doctor a blank stare. Lisa had returned to Gustave's bedside, but she listened intently to every word spoken between the pair.

"I'm sorry doctor, but I know nothing of either my or his mother's family history. We were both orphaned at a very young age. I can only tell you about my own health and his mother's from about the age of 9." When Erik had given all the information he could, he returned to his spot at Gustave's shoulder. It wasn't much for Dr. Gillis to go on, but it was enough for him to be very optimistic about Gustave's prognosis.

The doctor could see that the boy's father seemed to be in good health, except for whatever he hid under that mask. The boy also seemed to be an ideal specimen with an excellent constitution. That he'd regained consciousness so soon after such a traumatic incident was a very good sign.

The fever was Dr. Gillis' immediate concern. Though he had medicines he could prescribe, he knew that Kara had a collection of herbs that would help Gustave's quick recovery. Having been the physician for the family for a decade and a half he'd witnessed the medicinal properties of her homeopathic skills, so he would look to her for help if she wasn't already down stairs brewing something up. He'd never admit it to his peers, but the doctor believed that some of the old ways were still the best ways for cures and rehabilitation.

Dr. Gillis had another reason to be apprehensive. He didn't like the idea of this strange man being left alone with the 3 women for an unspecified amount of time. And the fact that Lisa didn't seemed too thrilled by the circumstances made him more concerned. She wasn't the kind of woman to open her door for every lost soul that crossed her path.

When the doctor had learned a few weeks earlier that she'd befriended the boy, he knew it was only because of her extreme loneliness. But to accept a full grown masked man into her home was perhaps too much of a stretch. A man like that was bound to have a dark history.

He would have to keep a watchful eye on them all while he supervised the boy's recovery. He would do whatever he had to make sure the ladies were safe.


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

For the time being there was little more that could be done but watch and wait. After giving instructions, Dr. Gillis departed. He would return every morning until he was satisfied the boy was on the mend and conditions in the household were nominal. In the meantime, Lisa helped Erik get situated.

He left only briefly to collect some of Gustave's and his belongings, and give instructions to his employees of what needed to be done in his absence. He wasn't going to be far from Phantasma, but didn't want to be called away unless for an extreme emergency. When he returned to the mansion, Lisa had already prepared a room for him and supplied both her guests with all they might require. She prayed that by the grace of god Gustave would make a quick recovery.

Once he was situated and unpacked, Erik returned to Gustave's side. He knew there was no way to sleep while his son was hurting, so he took up a silent vigil in one of the high back chairs that occupied every room. Gustave had fallen back to sleep early in the evening and continued to rest comfortably while his father watched every breath he took.

Minutes turned to the early morning hours of the next day, and every passing moment was a torment. Erik's mind was a flurry of thoughts, conjecture, emotion and memory. The child had run away, desiring so much to get away from his father that he'd nearly killed himself to accomplish it.

For Erik's entire life, he'd never been able to rely on another person for anything. He may have lived a life of longing for love, compassion, connection, but had never learned how to give or receive those tender affections.

His love for Christine had not been planned or even welcome in the beginning. Erik had fought its intrusion of his soul for as long as he could until it completely consumed him. Then it became an obsession. So he'd done what he always did to get what he needed, he'd tried to steal it. In that other time he'd been unable to understand that love must be a thing given freely and received with an open heart. It was a concept he only began to comprehend that night in his lair when Christine had kissed him for the first time, and he'd let her go.

Then the thing had happened that even now he can barely believe. She'd come to him willingly right before her wedding and given herself to him. Love had finally become a reality to him, but the power had been more than he'd imagined and frightened him to the core.

Erik had given up fear a long time ago. He wasn't even afraid when the mob had come looking for him. What would her life be like, tying herself to a man who couldn't walk in the light and no longer had the means to care for her. A wanted con-man and murderer forced to abandon the music that had been the bond that had brought them together and the only home he'd known for over 2 decades.

So he deserted his only love, a decision he would regret for all eternity, but never would he regret that night spent under a moonless sky. It took him 10 more years to mature enough to comprehend fully what it meant to love and be loved. He even dared to hope that there was still a chance for him and for her, but there was a price to be paid for his ignorance and evil, and he'd paid dearly.

As he looked down to the sleeping form of his son and the white bandage around his head, he wondered if he'd ever be done paying for the evils of his past. He'd escaped the judgment of his fellow man for the atrocities he'd committed, but perhaps there was a higher power intending to hold him accountable.

Erik had never considered making atonement for his crimes. It was a circumstance of his upbringing that he felt the world owed him something, a misconception only now coming to light. His stunted development meant he almost lacked a basic sense of humanity. Only know, after a lifetime of learning, had he gained an appreciation for life through the life of his child and the loss of his beloved. Erik had lived only a morsel of joy. What more would he have to lose before his penance was done.

There was a soft rustling outside the door, and it opened with only a small creak. Lisa's bare feet stepped into the guestroom carefully, not wanting to disturb Gustave. She was startled to find Erik still seated next to him and wide awake.

"I'm sorry. I thought you'd be in bed. I wander when I can't sleep and just wanted to check on him." She mumbled.

"It seems we both suffer from chronic insomnia." He said with that ever present tone of sarcasm. Lisa warred with proprietary instincts and the feeling of being unwelcome in her own house until she decided retreat was appropriate, but before she could withdraw Erik spoke again "I want to thank you."

"For what?" She asked.

"For saving him… again, and for being… a good friend to my boy." He finished reluctantly, and fell quiet again. There was a flurry of questions invading Lisa's mind. Far too many to approach while the two of them were still adversaries.

"The argument, it was about me wasn't it?" she asked, holding her breath for the answer.

"Yes." Erik responded flatly. Lisa lowered her head as the weight of guilt pressed down on her. "As I recall I was reduced to the same level as that worthless Vicomte and compared to a perpetually unhappy sinking ship on which Gustave would eventually drown." Erik waited for her to pelt him with piteous defensive apologies, but she only stood silent for several moments as she absorbed his words.

"I'm sorry. Apparently I've done more harm than good." She whispered quietly, and Erik thought he heard a hint of barely suppressed tears, though he couldn't be sure with the distance and dimness of light between them. Erik couldn't deny that he felt a small triumph within him to see her so humbled, but looking at the sleeping boy's face made him recoil at his own pettiness. This was no game worth playing at the expense of his son's life. He'd left the phantom behind, both in practice and pretense. A new day must begin.

"No, this is my fault and mine alone. I seem doomed to blindness, and those I care for always pay the price. Perhaps I will be able to learn my lesson this time." he said.

Lisa looked at him quizzically. This was not the same man she'd been in company with before. Perhaps the strain of these events had weakened his farce, and for the first time she glimpsed the real man beneath the mask and behind all the threats.

"It isn't easy being a single parent I'm sure. Children don't come with instructions unfortunately, and you can't learn how they work by taking them apart and putting them back together again."

"Humph." was his only response.

"But I think most people make it more complicated than it needs to be."

"Really, and how have you come to that opinion? How many children have you raised?" he chided, his words thick with cynicism. They hurt more than he could know, but she wouldn't show it.

"Well, although I have no children of my own, I've found that if you give children quality time and your full attention it makes them quite happy." She volunteered.

"Simple as that is it? The problem is they seem to want all your time and attention. Life is much too complicated to supply all they want when they want it. Not all of us have the abundance of leisure time you have." He mocked, and Lisa felt like she was becoming smaller with every passing moment.

"It's not about quantity, it's about quality." She said sheepishly, trying desperately to shore up her defenses. Erik wanted to cut her down and gain some small feeling of triumph out of the situation. Normally he would use such a vulnerable moment to deliver a verbal blow, but his own strength was waning.

Erik had to admit to himself, though it left a bad taste in his mouth, that this interloping woman might be right. After all, she was the one able to touch Gustave's heart and given him the ability to heal for the first time since his mother's passing. Perhaps she was the key to unlocking the shackles of grief that had begun to strangle them.

From his current perspective the task would take a miracle. Erik needed to utilize all the tools available to him to save the relationship he had with his son, or else he would be lost forever and Gustave would at last be alone in the world.

Erik looked over to Lisa, who still stood uneasily just inside the door. Timidity, he decided, did not suit her, and he didn't like seeing the agitation on her face as she looked back at him. Something inside of him responded, making him feel even more uneasy.

He stopped a moment to take in her appearance. She was wearing a much more modest night dress than he'd seen her in before. It hung to her ankles and covered her arms to the wrist, but still dipped dangerously to her bosom in a v-cut neckline. Her hair had been collected into one long copper braid that fell over her shoulder and was tied off with a ribbon.

Erik wondered if she'd changed her style of dress for his benefit. If he could he'd tell her he preferred the negligee to this more demure fashion. His mind began to drift as he looked Lisa over. When his eyes finally met hers again he knew he'd been staring. He held her gaze several seconds before speaking.

"So my gracious hostess, would you be so kind as to show me where the kitchen is? I'd like to make some tea." Erik leaned forward and touched the exposed flesh of Gustave's forehead to measure his temperature. Still warms, but not as hot as it had been hours earlier.

Erik stood slowly, marking the stiffness in his limbs. Despite being somewhere in his early forties, he was still in better shape than most men his age, and maintained the strength and stamina he'd known all his life through constant exercise. When one lives a secluded life it is imperative to keep both the mind and body sound. He performed daily calisthenics, as well as swimming, running and climbing whenever possible. But when he stayed still for any extended period of time heaviness filled his limbs.

Lisa watched him like she was seeing him for the first time as he stood, stretched and walked toward her. She hadn't spent an overt amount of time in the man's presence, but had never failed to notice that he was in good shape. Tall with broad shoulders and long limbed with a narrow waist. He moved with a practiced grace and felinity. Like a tomcat leisurely patrolling his territory, relaxed but always ready to pounce. There passed a few seconds while she just looked at him before she regained her senses and moved to escort him to the kitchen.

They left the room quietly, walking side by side down the stairs and towards the kitchen. It was a silent trip all the way there. As soon as they entered, Erik immediately took up his task, not waiting for Lisa to direct him or start making the tea herself. Lisa was pleasantly surprised to see he knew his way around a kitchen.

She took a seat on one of the stools that were set around a large island in the center of the space where food was prepared, and watched him. Even when he looked like he wasn't finding what he needed, Lisa didn't speak up to help him. If Mr. Y wanted help, he would need to ask for it. He never did, hunting until he found what he needed or just choosing to do without. Being alone with him in the dark kitchen lent a strange kind of intimacy to the moment that made Lisa tense.

Erik was keenly aware of her eyes following him, and with the silence it was making him a little anxious. He may consider himself a kind of performer, but was in no way used to having an audience. If he were going to be spending the next several days under this roof, he'd have to learn some coping mechanisms.

"Ahem, I understand you were married?" He asked without turning to face her. Lisa was caught off guard and her lips nearly locked against giving any answer, but she breathed deep and allowed the conversation to begin. She figured having to talk with the man was an inevitable consequence of him staying there, and it was probably in her best interests to find out as much as she could about him.

"Yes, but I lost Charles 15 years ago, at the same time my father died." A lump rose in her throat and she had to force it back. She didn't know why it was so much easier to discuss such things with a 13 year old boy compared to another adult, especially after a decade and a half. "They were killed in Morocco during a conflict between the Spanish government and the Rif tribes."

"So he was a soldier?" he asked.

"No, he was a sailor. Captain actually, of the San Mateo until his retirement. He'd been asked to take up the governorship of the territory after the death of Juan Margallo, but we weren't exactly welcomed with open arms."

"You were there as well?" Erik walked over to the counter carrying the expertly arranged tray for tea, complete with two cups. Behind him the pot was already near to boiling. Lisa could only stare blankly at him as she rallied herself to answer through an onslaught of memories.

"Yes. We were held captive for a short time until reinforcements arrived to liberate us." Erik looked into the green of her eyes. He recognized the shimmer of painful memories glinting in those emerald orbs. He had to glance away quickly when the sight stirred something within him.

"That must have been very difficult. It must have been a comfort to you to have had your mother with you though." He wanted to say something meaningful; although why he cared he didn't know.

"Yes, and Kara was a great help." A fleeting smile touched Lisa's lips for just a moment. "I heard you tell Dr. Gillis that you had no family. How did you lose them?" Erik's body straightened as his form braced itself. A well placed and fortified wall had been erected.

His social skills weren't very refined or well-practiced. It was much easier to ask other people questions, but he was never prepared to answer any about himself. He'd only learned how to begin with Gustave's help, so perhaps expecting him to open up a little to a stranger was going to be too much. Normally his first instinct was to tell people to mind their own business, but as he continued to look into Lisa's eyes there was another crack within him and he spoke.

"They aren't lost. I was sold into a gypsy circus as a toddler. I barely remember my mother, and have no memory of my father or any other relative." He talked as if he were describing the weather. Lisa made a sour face, as if she were confused.

"Why would a woman sell her child?" She didn't think about the question before it escaped her lips. Erik looked up at her with a look of annoyance, but she only sat waiting for him to elaborate.

"When you have a child with a face like mine what else is there to do. A face not even a mother could love." He was acting as if it was nothing to him. It occurred to him as an unpleasant shock that unlike anyone else he'd ever met, Lisa had never reacted to his masked face with a look of fear, distaste or intimidation. In the few times they'd interacted she'd spoken to him as if it weren't even there and he was a man like any other. His mouth dried suddenly.

"I can't understand that. Even if my child was born without a face I would still love him and give my life for him." Lisa sighed crossly at the thought, as if she'd been the one wounded by Erik's past abandonment. "What about the gypsies, did they treat you well?"

"I was a commodity to them, and considered no better than an animal." He answered quietly. "It is a very long story, and not very pretty. I'm afraid it is rather inappropriate for feminine ears." Lisa visibly prickled at his words as her pride and ego took a hit Erik hadn't intended to throw. He found it strangely endearing and almost found himself smiling down at her. Lisa on the other hand found his expression smug.

"These feminine ears have heard quite a bit. And these eyes have seen even more, including the bullets that exploded my husband's head and my father's heart. So there's no need for you to be concerned with my sensibilities." Erik looked back at her rueful of his insensitivity. It was not part of his repertoire to have these types of conversations, or any conversation at all.

Lisa had to catch herself before she became defensive. She had to remind herself that all men had been trained to both see and treat women as if they were made of porcelain with a head full of air.

"I'm sorry. It's been a long time since I've talked of such things with anyone and it makes me a little irritable. Perhaps you of all people can understand." Erik gave her one slow nod of acknowledgment, and Lisa's hard eyes softened.

For many moments they just stood there. They both felt a lot had been said in a very short conversation, much more than either had been prepared for. The pot of water he'd put to boil sounded loudly at that moment. Erik collected it onto the tray, and together they made their way back to the guestroom.

They settled themselves at a small table near the hearth, where a small fire had been lit to fend off any autumn chill. After checking on Gustave again, Erik poured the tea and handed it to Lisa, who graciously accepted it. Something about this very domestic setting tickled Lisa and she smiled to herself as she sipped the refreshment. She was feeling much too comfortable sharing tea next to a man who'd pretty much threatened her life. She was anxious, but not in the way her rational mind told her she should be.

"Is something funny?" he asked.

"I'm just pleased to see you being so adept with these little ceremonies."

"I've lived alone my entire life, so even a man must learn how to take care of themselves." he stated, feeling a bit overexposed. Something was happening here. Despite an entire lifetime of being reminded of how inhuman he was, Erik felt almost normal and it was unsettling. The sensation was as alien as rain to a desert, at once welcoming and alarming. Was this the effect she had on Gustave? Maybe then he could understand why the boy was so taken with her, a friend worth having…perhaps?

"It's very endearing. I hope Gustave takes after you." It was a strange compliment, making the moment very awkward for both of them. They fell once again into a pregnant silence. Both sets of eyes had settled on Gustave's sleeping figure, but beneath the surface both minds buzzed. Lisa fought to tame her thoughts and rally her logical mind to those issues and questions that required immediate attention.

"If you've lived alone for so long you must have left the circus at an early age. I've never known the Romani people to be very accommodating to an outsider, even those they employ, especially a source of income. How did you manage to get away from them?" Lisa asked.

Erik looked at her for a few seconds before answering. He considered that a lie would be the best option, but something about the moment and this strange woman made him pliable. He was already far more vulnerable than he'd ever been. Perhaps a shock was what he needed to level the playing field.

She'd already admitted to him that she thought him a man who'd taken life, so would he really be making a mistake if he were honest? Despite all the rational arguments against telling the truth, Erik found himself compelled to disclose the things he'd never told anyone. He held her eyes with his, ready to measure her reaction enough for him to be prepared for any problems.

"One day when I was perhaps 10 years old, my keeper died and I was able to run away." He watched her intently, waiting for her to either accept this version of the story or show doubt. Lisa's brows knotted as she gazed back at him, but he couldn't discern what she was thinking.

"Didn't they look for you?" He only nodded in response. "Where did you go?" she asked calmly.

"With the help of a friend I hid myself in the Garnier Opera house in Paris. I lived there for 22 years in the bowels of the theater, until it was destroyed." Although his eyes looked elsewhere he listened for any sound from his audience. A gasp, a whimper, but all he heard was a sad sigh.

"And that's where you met Gustave's mother, Mademoiselle Daae?" She asked coolly, but Erik could tell that she was holding back an emotion by the way her voice cracked. His rational mind told him he should stop now, but there appeared in him a need to test these unfamiliar waters. He might later look back on this and berate himself for having revealed so much, but in the moment the darkness of the room was like the quiet comfort of a confessional.

"Yes, the ballet mistress had been a friend of her fathers. When the man passed away from consumption Christine was brought to the Garnier as a ward of the house to train as a ballerina. I heard her one day singing in the chapel and realized her potential. So I took it upon myself to be her mentor, and she excelled as a performer as you know. She achieved quite a bit of notoriety before her career was so tragically cut short." The information bled out of him and he fought internally to stem the flow.

"Do you mean by her death or her marriage to the Vicomte?" she asked. Erik's head snapped to her, stunned by the question. How could she assume to know? It angered Erik not because of what she might think of him, but what it could imply against his Angel. It didn't take much of an imagination, especially a woman's he thought, to make the story of their lives into a sordid tale. But what he saw wasn't accusation. Lisa's eyes were filled with sympathy.

"Both." He answered with barely a whisper and then looked away. It seemed the air in the room had been spent. A stillness like the finality of the tomb hung about the space. Several minutes passed before anyone spoke again.

"How did he die?" Lisa asked.

"Who?" replied Erik.

"The gypsy who kept you, you said he died, how?"

"What does it matter? He was a vile, drunken and abusive monster." Erik didn't want to say it, feeling for the first time ever that might be ashamed of what had been done. He looked over to Lisa, with as stern an expression his half face could express, hoping it would deter her further. But she only stared back unwavering in her resolution to get an answer.

"During my time there, I was kept caged. Bolto, my keeper, mistakenly entered my enclosure inebriated and with his back turned to me. I'd managed to find some rope, so I wrapped it around his neck and garroted him. When he fell to the floor dead I fled."

It wasn't shock, horror or fear in Lisa's eyes as she looked back at him, not even pity for the caged freak. Whatever it was, her eyes felt like they were reaching inside of him and drawing out a heavy mass of guilt Erik never knew was there. Quickly he looked away, feeling both ashamed and full of self-doubt.

"In my adolescence my family traveled extensively throughout Europe. As consequence we came into contact with several roaming bands of gypsy's and I saw many of the miserable souls they kept prisoner. I remember thinking that I would do anything to save them, but my father told me that it was not our place to interfere. It had been the way of the Romani for hundreds of years." Lisa felt the distance of those experiences widen as she recalled them.

Erik really did expect her to leap from her seat, sending the tea flying, and run from the room screaming murderer and calling the police. Not this simple acceptance and even understanding.

In time Lisa stood, her mind giving up on quantifying her new predicament. Emotion was becoming clouded with reason, a problem some might say inherent to women, but for those who knew Lisa she was the last person to be called flighty, emotional or lacking good judgment.

"I think it's time for me to retire. I appreciate your time and conversation. I'll see you both in the morning." And with that she made her way to the door. Erik simply stared at her. Was that it? After one of the most telling conversations he'd had in his life. Just before reaching the door, Lisa turned back.

"I hope you know you're safe here, both of you. Thank you for trusting us Mr. Destler."

"Please, call me Erik. If you ever find again that you can't sleep, you're more than welcome to join me for a chat." He said softly.

Lisa thanked him and disappeared into the dark hallway. Erik resumed his position in the high backed chair next to Gustave's bed. He no longer felt nervous and fatigue was starting to pull on his consciousness, but he didn't want to be alone in his rented room.

He laid his head down on the edge of the bed near to his son, enjoying the feel of the boy's breath on the small part of his face that wasn't covered by his mask. Within moments he was asleep. His second to last thought before being lost to sleep was concern for his son, but the very last thing that filled his mind was the new friend he'd made.


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

Being summoned to an emergency meeting at the master's residence was not a normal occurrence and it made Antoinette tense with anxiety wondering why. Since their missed meeting of a few weeks ago the man had resumed his normal schedule as if there'd never been any interruption, but there was a notable change to how he was behaving.

She'd managed to gain some interesting information on the goings on of the last few months in the Long Island residence. Gustave had managed to make some new friends, ones that were in no way acquainted with Coney Island or Phantasma. And these weren't other children as one might expect, but a group of shut-ins living in a mansion in one of city boroughs.

The master himself had gone to their home to investigate them the very day he'd been absent from his appointment. And these women, witless in Antoinette's opinion, had actually accepted him. It baffled her mind, so Antoinette had to finally conclude that there had to be something sinister going on.

Perhaps this Lisa had discovered the truth and found some way to black mail the master? Or maybe Mr. Y was up to his old games again and found another target for his obsession? Both possibilities seemed farfetched to Antoinette, but knowing the strange past they shared she knew anything was possible.

It was mid-day when a ruffled looking Squelch arrived at the theatre to collect her. Mr. Arrows, the man in charge of park operations and the head carny was already seated in the carriage waiting for her.

"Do you know what this is all about? We still have 3 more shows to do today and without me someone will probably fall off stage. These chorus girls are so pitiful; they have no grace or style." She complained, trying to conceal her true concerns.

"Not a clue." He responded. "Maybe he's going to tell us he's sold the lot and is moving to Canada, or retiring to the south. Who knows with that man?" he finished with a displeased chuckle.

Antoinette turned a disapproving eye on the man. He was about as helpful as an infection. From then on they rode silently to the master's home. When they disembarked the carriage they saw that he was loading bags to the motorized coach he normally used. Madam Giry felt her stomach drop.

"What's going on?" she demanded.

Mr. Y didn't respond or even acknowledge them until he'd finished his task. He then turned sharply and stalked towards them. The effect was just we he'd intended. Mr. Arrows unconsciously took a step back, and although Madam Giry was able to stand her ground she visibly stiffened.

"I have an urgent matter to attend to in the city and will not be available unless for emergencies, for which you would need to notify me through Squelch. Mr. Dangle will be with me and have limited availability." Erik expertly shifted his expression and straightened in a manner to make himself more menacing for the rest of his speech. Arrows shrunk away, but Giry still stood firm.

"I expect the same quality of work I always do in my absence. The updates to the fun house are scheduled for completion within the week Mr. Arrows. I know you understand I have no patience for those incapable of heeding my orders." He finished.

Mr. Arrows tried to open his mouth to ask a question, but one sharp look from the master stopped him. Understanding he'd been dismissed, the carny retreated and went back to the carriage for his return to Phantasma.

Erik then turned his attention to Madam Giry. Although his demeanor was no less intense, the words were less hard.

"I trust you to continue directing the daily production to my standards. I expect to see the final rehearsals for the fall show to be completed by my return. Keep the company in check. Remind them I won't be far away and might always be watching." He moved to turn away, but Antoinette called out to him.

"And what of the child?" she asked daringly, "Will he be staying with his friends?" Erik stopped in his tracks, and there was notable tremor that ran through his frame.

He'd lost his trust and faith in the Giry's the moment Meg had run off with Gustave, and when her stray bullet had struck Christine it cemented a level of resentment that could never be cured and bordered on hate. But this woman had been the closest thing to a friend and companion Erik had had for all his life.

Antoinette Giry had been the one to give him shelter from the Gypsy mob that had wanted him dead. Then she'd provided for him as a child until he'd become self-sufficient. And again when another horde sought his ruin for the murder of Piangi, kidnapping Christine and setting the Garnier ablaze she'd rescued him.

Erik told himself he kept her around because she knew too much, or as an alibi if ever he needed one, but the truth was that he was always comforted in a small way by knowing there was someone in this rancid world that knew him, if only superficially. He turned back slowly and met her imposing stare with his own commanding one.

"He… tried to run away last night. He went into the city and was caught in the storm and… was injured." He struggled to keep his composure. Every word reminded him of his guilt. "He is there with them, and the physician says that he can't be moved, so I will be staying there until he can be brought home."

Antoinette noted that he didn't question how she knew about them, but she was relieved that he didn't. So the boy had tried to leave, inevitable she thought to herself.

"And these people, these women, you trust them to care for him?" she asked.

"Gustave trusts them, so I… well, I will be there and keep a careful watch. I should be going." He turned again to leave.

"Do they know about you?" she called to him.

"What exactly are you referring too?" he stopped and asked over his shoulder.

"The kind of man you are, your history. It wouldn't be difficult if someone took the time to investigate you." She said.

"What they think they know of me is of no concern to me. If I feel they are a threat I will take care of them. And I am sure that no one close to me would be stupid enough to betray me." He said finally and continued to walk away and enter the motorized carriage.

"Of course." She said, even though he was already out of ear-shot. The woman watched suspiciously as the vehicle started up and disappeared down the gravel drive. There was an opportunity here, for what she wasn't sure yet, but Antoinette was not the kind of person to miss playing even a supporting role.


	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

The man was a murderer. Lisa didn't know why she should feel upset since she'd deduced as much from her earlier analysis of him, but that day in the ballroom seemed so long ago now. Now he was in her house taking up residence.

She was trying her best to sort through the situation as best she could. The problem was she wasn't feeling what her head told her she should be. She wasn't afraid of him, and despite the revelations he'd made Lisa couldn't make herself feel like he was a danger to them.

What she felt was sympathy, compassion, and a need to console. These were dangerous emotions, she knew, and unwarranted. What had this man done other than condescend, ridiculed or threaten them? But he'd also trusted her; first with his child, than with the boy's care during this situation, and now with this knowledge.

Tonight she'd seen and heard a different side of him. But what if this story were some kind of ploy to trick her or keep her off balance? Her heart told her no. It seemed like there was some strange force at work here, but should she fight it and listen to her gut?

If Charles were here he'd say that she should always do what felt right, and damn all the rest. But if he were here, she wouldn't be in this situation. Lisa rolled her eyes and shook her head; chastising herself once again for asking 'If Charles was here.' She'd spent the last 15 years walking with his shadow by her side it seemed. Sometimes it was a comfort, at others it was a suffocating pressure, and then it was the guilt of having survived.

The thought made her instantly feel empty inside, as she had so often since that day. The hollowness had become a familiar pain, like the ghost pain an amputee forever feels. She'd lost so much of herself since then that she wondered how she was able to get up every morning. How did she manage to take the next breadth God had prescribed her?

For the first few years after her loss Lisa's love for her husband had remained a tangible substance that had filled and sustained her. It was her food, water, air and spirit. Not that she loved Charles any less, but as time passed it seemed to drain away and Lisa struggled to replenish her soul.

The answer was simple, her mother needed her, and so did Kara. They were all she had left and as long as they lived she had purpose. Now there was Gustave. Her impulse to invite him into their home had been uncharacteristic, and then to encourage his continued visitation was a great leap. But it had lifted her heart so much the way he brought light and energy into their lives.

He was special as she had always known, but he was also a salve to Lisa's wounded and stagnant heart. She'd been more inspired in the time they'd known each other than she had been in years, and Mama Aguilar had reclaimed some the vitality lost in the last decade. Even Kara had found a new reason to feel more alive. Lisa had denied herself for so long the opportunity to care for someone new, and it felt good and refreshing.

But nothing comes without price or consequence, and now the child lay damaged in her home and his volatile father would be living with them. Lisa should put an end to it all now and not risk the possibility of getting hurt, either physically or emotionally. But could they all really go back to how things had been. It seemed like a death sentence to even consider it. She was more afraid of the past than the future for the first time in years.

'If Charles were here…' she repeated to herself as she laid down on her coverlet, considering how disappointed he'd be in her. A part of Lisa wanted to be able to let go of her sorrow and give in to all the possibilities, good or bad, that the future held, but so much of her soul was saturated in memories. Maybe, just maybe, all this was happening for a reason, and just maybe they would all find salvation in the end.

Lisa grabbed the edge of her blanket and wrapped herself up in it. She managed to drift to sleep within a few minutes even though her mind was still busy trying to balance itself. Murderer, father, possible phantom, loneliness, pain, guilt, hope, anger, need, fear, excitement; the atmosphere in the mansion was thick with so much energy not one of its occupants failed to be touched by it.

Kara could not sleep with the masked man in the house. The same man who'd already violated their home and whose past was such a mystery. In the presence of outsiders Kara knew her place was to keep quiet and play the part of dutiful servant, but she was neither subservient nor ignorant.

She'd been paying close attention to all that had been happening and what had been said. Kara remembered the events 13 years ago in Paris, and was aware that this man could quite possibly be the infamous Opera Ghost. She had been quite captivated by the story at the time. It was a welcome distraction after the horrors they'd experienced.

The papers had told the tale in depth of a masked menace that had killed 2 men, defrauded the managers, terrorized the cast, and set the Garnier ablaze, all to propel the carrier of rising star Christine Daae. It was rumored that the Phantom of the Opera had even kidnapped the ingénue, and when her lover the Vicomte had tried to rescue her he'd been captured and held prisoner by the fiend.

Then after the destruction of the opera house, the diva and Vicomte had mysteriously resurfaced unharmed. They had never validated the story, but they never discredited it by providing their own version of how events had unfolded. Then when an unidentifiable body had been found in the bowels of the Garnier, everyone had assumed it was the Phantom and the story had become an urban legend.

But when the child of that same diva shows up at their doorstep with a masked man for a father, and that same man admits to having not only lived at the Garnier during that time, but to having been the soprano's teacher; Well, it didn't take that great a leap of imagination to put all the pieces together.

Kara could understand Mama Aguilar missing the connections, but she was perplexed as to how Lisa could or why she would be ignoring the strong possibility. She knew her friend was deeply enamored of the boy, as they all were, but could that really be enough for her to dismiss the danger of having a homicidal madman in their midst.

Kara needed to do something to neutralize this threat before it was too late or they were in too deep to turn back. The day had been too busy to start, but she'd already decided to make inquiries with Salena in Paris and learn more about the events surrounding Mademoiselle Daae's death. She would do her best to expose this snake in the grass, even if that meant cutting off his head.


	19. Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

It became a habit on those first few mornings that Lisa would find Erik sleeping in the chair next to Gustave's bed. She would collect the tray of tea he always made in the middle of the night, and by the time she returned with breakfast he would have awoken, gone to his room to freshen up, and returned to Gustave's side. It was only after he was convinced that the boy was going to make a full recovery that he used the bed next door, but even then he didn't retire until the early morning and only for a few hours.

From the first morning that the boy opened his eyes it was clear he was on the mend. There was only a brief concern for the fever that didn't break until the third day, but every day Gustave's strength and appetite improved. The biggest obstacle was keeping the 13 year old entertained. While the fever lasted, the doctor ordered for Gustave to remain in bed so everyone assembled in his room.

Mrs. Aguilar slept on the first floor due to an injury she'd had many years ago so she could not climb the stairs. The matriarch was very saddened that she wouldn't be able to attend to her guests. Then Erik had been gallant enough to carry her up to Gustave's room so that she could visit with him.

The old woman beamed as if she was being rescued from a fire breathing dragon. Lisa couldn't help smirking at the way her mother clutched Erik's neck. It may have been obvious to the rest of the world that the man was very uncomfortable and instantly regretted the impulse to offer his help, but Gloria Aguilar chose to remain blissfully oblivious.

They played cards, and Lisa taught Erik and Gustave how to play dominos and mahjong, but by midweek Gustave had become antsy and yearned to leave his room. Dr. Gillis acquiesced only to giving allowance for the boy to move about the house accompanied. He continued to advise it was necessary to keep the boy's movement to a minimum and not risk any respiratory distress.

Erik being as concerned a father as Lisa had ever seen, even compared to her own, would carry the wriggling child down the stairs and back up at the end of each day. Despite being of age enough to be considered a young man, Gustave looked as comfortable as a toddler in his father's arms. The rest of the time was spent between the library, music room and Lisa's studio.

It amazed Lisa to see how happy the boy had become being here with his father. The troubled look in his eyes that had concerned her faded more each passing day as father and son found new ways to connect. It even seemed to Lisa as she watched Gustave watch Erik, that the young man was proud of the older.

Erik too was transforming from the brooding, unstable malevolent man she'd first judged him to be to a tentative friend. He was still uneasy about spending all his time with new people, but he was finding it easier than he'd ever expected to build his social skills. Even Kara seemed to warm to him, and was soon milking as much information as she could about his favorite foods and preparing gourmet versions of them. Lisa surmised that by the end of Gustave's convalescence Kara would become the equal to any French chef on either continent.

In the evenings after dinner, everyone would file into the music room where Erik would play the small spinet. At first he played the usual pieces, like Mozart and Brahms, but with Gustave's encouragement he gifted them with renditions of his own work.

Lisa couldn't help being moved by the wealth of feeling being conveyed in each complex and carefully constructed composition, especially because they were all played from memory since Erik hadn't produced one sheet from his belongings.

It was plain to see that each piece was very personal to him and had a story behind it. Without thinking, Lisa one day asked if there were words to accompany his music, Erik replied gloomily that he no longer wrote vocal accompaniment for the music since he'd lost his soprano.

Gustave would always fall asleep cuddled between Lisa and her mother on the couch while Erik played. Erik would then take his child to bed while Kara and Lisa assisted Mrs. Aguilar to her room. The boy knew he was well enough to make the trip unassisted, but it was delightful receiving this extra attention from his father.

"Can I ride on your back?" he asked the man on the fifth day of his convalescence. Erik looked back at him dismayed.

"What on earth do you mean." He asked.

"Well, being carried in your arms is nice and all, but it's really for girls. I'd be more comfortable on your back instead don't you think, and it would be fun." said the boy. Erik looked on his son quizzically. He understood what the boy meant, having seen young boys play piggyback, but he'd never played as a child and fun for him had never been that kind of merriment.

Still unsure but willing to make an effort for Gustave's sake, Erik helped the boy onto his back and carried him up the stairs. Gustave was pleased more than words could express. He didn't understand why one small gesture could have generated such an enormous feeling, but he was grateful for it.

He was starting to imagine so many wonderful things for the both of them. Things he'd only ever fantasized about when he'd looked at other fathers and sons at the park. He almost felt normal and the sensation made him hopeful.

Lisa would try each night to lie in her bed and fall to sleep, but the compulsion to join Erik in Gustave's room for a late night chat and cup of Persian tea was too enticing to resist. The spice of his brew wasn't really to her liking, having become long accustomed to the robust flavor of her mother's Russian blend, but the promise of his company made it an easy sacrifice.

Before Gustave's incident, had anyone asked either of them if they'd even consider spending time and effort getting to know each other, both would have replied with an emphatic 'never'. Now it was a given that they both enjoyed and looked forward to the company of the other; something that didn't go unnoticed by Gustave, Kara and Mrs. Aguilar or the small group of attendants that visited Erik frequently to discuss his business.

They discussed many topics from politics, to philosophy and religion. Lisa was pleased to find that despite a formal education Erik was very well read and knowledgeable. He had a witty and open humor, even if sometimes puerile. One just had to get past his normally brash attitude to discover the quality of the man underneath. Once he dropped the persona of master it was like the emergence of new person.

It broke Lisa's heart to see that he truly considered himself a monster because of the deformity, which he only ever referred to offhandedly. As consequence he kept everything at a distance. Lisa still couldn't deduce why he'd opened up to her the way he had.

Her curiosity about what lay beneath the mask had diminished to barely noticing it most of the time, but there were still so many questions she had, and suspicions. What had happened in Paris, and what part if any did he play in the mysterious Phantom of the Opera episode.

He talked about the Opera Populaire in regards to the productions they'd put on. He was expert on every piece of music, from its background to its mechanics. Though he'd been taught to read and write by the same friend who had given him refuge from the gypsies, when it came to music he was purely self-taught.

He could play nearly every instrument on every part for all the Opera's he knew or seen produced. Erik spoke several languages, was in fact fluent in all the tongues of the music he loved, Spanish, Italian, Russian, German, Swedish all the way to his beloved French.

Lisa tried to show off her French, but after Erik cringed several times he gently recommended they stick to the more common English before her accent made his ears bleed. Lisa rolled her eyes at his comment. He was, she decided, very French and full of that national pride his compatriots often had. When in response she gifted him with a few well-placed Spanish expletives he nearly woke Gustave up with his chuckling.

Lisa spoke in depth about her experiences traveling with her parents. She spoke of Europe's national beauty and richness of culture, as well as the old world cruelties she'd witnessed. Other places where not only those cursed with medical abnormalities were outcast, but people suffering from disease and infirmity. Many took advantage of these unfortunate, like the gypsies had, making them profitable by parading them for the public.

Erik listened intently was she described what she witnessed. Though he'd lived it, hearing it from an outsider who felt empathy for the downtrodden touched him. What would Lisa have thought if she'd come across The Devil's Child during her travels? He didn't chime in as she spoke of those times. Erik had trained his mind to avoid the recollection of his early days, though the sense of anger, anxiety and hate were never far away.

There were other topics they never discussed, like Christine. Lisa had tried to ask a few carefully worded questions if ever the subject invited it, but her attempts were as flipping a switch to turn off a light. Erik would immediately shut down and be lost to the discussion until the conversation was led safely away. It was frustrating for Lisa, but she felt the exact same cooling effect when the topic of her husband came up. Luckily she had her mother to fill those moments. For Gustave and Erik, it was simply a blank spot.

Lisa's understanding of his being reserved didn't stem her lingering interest at the details of his past. Lisa told herself she had no intention of allowing Erik's mysterious allure to seduce her into investing unnecessary emotions in him. She tried to train herself that she could admire his dark beauty, but not succumb to its pull.

Had Kara or her mother known the growing conflict within her, they would have pointed out to her how foolish she was being and that in denying her own feelings she was only leading herself deeper into the trap. Mrs. Aguilar might have encouraged Lisa's burgeoning sentiments, but Kara would have done all she could to turn the tide.

Kara was happy to receive Salena's telegraphed response to her inquiry in a weeks' time, but it was disappointingly lacking the confirmation she'd hoped for. In Paris the phantom was old news. Most considered the matter closed and the phantom dead, if he'd ever really existed at all. Many speculated that the whole thing had been a stunt put on by the managers to increase sales, but had accidently resulted in the fire.

It wasn't anything that she didn't already know, but there was one thing that did stand out to her, a name. Madame Antoinette Giry and her daughter Meg had been in residence at the Garnier at the time. The Madame had also been the ballet mistress and guardian to Miss Daae, while Meg had been Christine's closest friend.

Even more telling was the information she received about the Vicomtes' passing, but not because it was full of details. She was sure that Mister Y had used his wealth, position and influence to sweep the affair under the table. The papers had reported the events as completely accidental, but they had revealed that the shooter had been Meg Giry.

Apparently she and her mother had come to New York just after the events in Paris and settled at Coney Island working for the same Mister Y. Kara had tried inquiring about it with Dr. Gangle. She rather liked the gentleman, and he reminded her of the brother she'd lost many years ago to the mercenary violence in her county. He was intelligent and good humored with a certain flare that endeared him to whomever he met.

Most days Kara would entertain Phantasma's master of ceremonies in her kitchen while he waited on Mr. Destler. They were often chatting about this or that, so when she started in about the death of Christine Daae.

"I thought Gustave had told about all that." He replied.

"He told us some, but all from the perspective of a child." She said nonchalantly. Dr. Gangle, whose first name was Frederick, sighed deeply. He wasn't in the habit of disclosing the personal details of his employers life, but he'd felt for some time that these women were going to get more than they'd bargained for.

"It was an accident, just like it was reported in the papers." He said as a matter of fact, but Frederick new it wouldn't satisfy Kara.

"Yes, I remember reading that much. But how is it a woman accidently shots her childhood friend in front of the woman's child, her own mother and employer out on a pier late at night." she remarked, trying not to sound frustrated, just innocently curious.

"Does it matter, an accident is an accident." He stated dryly. He folded his hands over the copy of the New York Times he'd been scanning. Kara was looking at him squarely from across the island in the kitchen.

Frederick figured he knew why she wanted more information. They had accepted to Gustave into their little coven as the bright, engaging and lovable child that he was, but the master was could not be considered inviting. Though he'd seen an unprecedented change in the man over that last several days, he still wasn't the kind of stranger most simply open their doors too.

Kara must be afraid for her little family as anyone in her situation should be. Dr. Gangle couldn't be called an expert of the master's past, but he could speak to the character of the man he knew.

"Look, the only person who could possibly give you more is Madam Giry, but I don't think she'll be talking anytime soon. As for me, I can only tell you that you should not fear the master. True he is strange and menacing at the best of times, but he'd intended you any harm he would have done it already. Right now he wouldn't risk Gustave's unhappiness." He said.

"And what if we were to displease him? Can you be so sure of his benevolence than?" she asked.

"Yes. When Meg Giry's bullet killed Mademoiselle Daae, he had every chance to strike her and her mother down but he didn't. I seriously doubt that you could commit a worse crime against him."

"Has he been so good to you and your kind to deserve such obedience?" She asked cynically.

"Yes, indeed he has. It may not be his nature to befriend or show care for us, but he's done more for we freaks than anyone has in all our lives. We live well and we are safe." He finished.

Kara was not persuaded. Perhaps she would need to delve deeper, and perhaps this Giry woman was the only one who could either set her mind to rest or lead her to the truth.


	20. Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20 Confessions of another life

Erik had awoken the first morning in the mansion regretful that he'd divulged so much about himself. He was risking life and livelihood by confessing even a snippet of his dark history. He concluded that his weakness had been caused by the stresses of the day and only a momentary lapse in his judgment. He began to formulate a plan to combat the retribution that he expected, but the kind and charitable looks he received every day from Lisa were far from what he imagined.

Erik couldn't understand her attitude. She wasn't daft, so how could an intelligent woman accept his history? She wasn't ridiculous, so how could a sensible woman accept a murderer in her home? She wasn't naïve either, so how could a worldly person who'd seen the horrors of violence tolerate such a monster in her midst?

The phantom in him wanted to challenge her. To draw out the fear and horror he'd always seen painted on the faces of all those who'd seen and known him. He could understand the reproach of being viewed as a demon. Lisa's quiet acceptance was wholly foreign to him, and yet appealing like a sirens song. If he didn't reveal the bare truth of himself he felt the whirlpool of his need would consume him; the tension inside drawing him down to a blissful death.

His regret would be in losing the sense of normalcy both he and Gustave had experienced over the last week. Erik knew it would be far beyond him to ever be able to offer such comfort to Gustave who would surely crave it forevermore. He found himself hoping that after this ordeal was over, he and Lisa could at least achieve a comfortable accord in regards to Gustave. The thought made a strange electric charge tickle Erik's skin.

Like on most late nights, the house sat quietly and comfortably. After Gustave had drifted off to sleep, Erik took up his position at the small table near the hearth, waiting. She would come soon as she had the last week, and sit in the accompanying chair.

They would chat about the world, the weather, music, literature or nothing at all. And then it would happen. He would tell her. Then she will look at him with disgust, anger, even hate. Perhaps she would expel them from the house right away, or say that once Gustave was recovered she never wanted to see either of them again. Or maybe she would run to alert the authorities?

Lisa didn't knock before entering so she wouldn't wake Gustave. She also knew he would be there, possibly expecting her. Lisa had heard him not to long ago go downstairs for his tray of tea, so he might even have a cup prepared for her. The room was in semi darkness. It was big enough that the light from the small brazier or the lamp closest to the window didn't impede the cloak of shade surrounding the bed. The door opened slowly with only a small creak.

Lisa looked into the room first to see the lump under the covers that was Gustave. Then she stepped lightly onto into the room, swiveling her head to find the table and man. She couldn't help the grin that grew on her face when she saw him, but she fought the pull of her muscles to make it a full smile. He didn't react and only watched as she made her way to the chair that had been placed for her.

She didn't expect him to put on the gentlemanly airs other men did by standing when she entered the room or pulling out her chair. Lisa doubted he'd ever been schooled in such niceties. She didn't mind either way, it made all the other gestures that much more sincere.

When she settled, he immediately moved to pour her a cup. He knew how she liked it and didn't have to ask. Each motion of his hands was calculated so that he didn't seem anxious or overly careful. Lisa accepted the cup, took a small sip to test it, and gave him an approving nod. A strange look crossed the visible side of Erik's face, causing even the mask to seem animated for just a moment before he looked away.

"You played beautifully tonight." She said in a small voice.

"Thank you. That piece was one of our favorites many years ago." He replied.

"Our?" Lisa asked.

"Mine and Christine; I wrote for her to sing with me as a duet." He spoke in that way that made it sound like it meant nothing, which meant it was very important information.

"It was full of passion and very expressive; she must have enjoyed singing it. What were the words?" She said.

Erik closed his eyes against a torrent of memories. In his mind's eye a young Christine enters a dark stage dressed as the ill-fated Aminta. Her voice was ghostly in his memory as she began to sing. When he joined her on stage and in song his black cloak seemed to shimmer like it was touched by starlight.

The words flowed as they moved around each other. There was no audience in his memory, only the young woman that was his world moving closer and closer to him with each passing note. Finally standing nose to nose with him, she reached up and whipped the hood away. There was no mask to hide his hideousness, and the screams that surrounded him had no end. Erik's eyes popped open and he was once again in the present, and a wave of relief washed over him.

"That's _Don Juan Triumphant_ isn't it?" Lisa asked tentatively. Erik looked at her questioningly, had she been there? "You were just singing it, and the papers wrote an excerpt of the lyrics the morning after the Garnier burned." Lisa gut twisted as an unbelievable pressure landed on her. She hesitated only a moment before continuing.

"Yes, we performed it together. Just once on that night." He said in a voice deepened by emotion. Lisa's throat dried. She enough about the night the chandelier fell to discern what his words revealed.

"You?" Lisa was unsure of how to voice the inquiry. Erik only waited, knowing exactly what she wanted to know, but not wanting to be the first to say it. More than a minute passed before Lisa was able to formulate the words. "The papers said it was a ghost that killed those men, crashed the chandelier and set the blaze that consumed the Opera Populaire. That it was all done to win the heart of Miss Daae and the phantom was really a crazed man obsessed with her. Are… you that man?" Lisa held her breath.

"It was a long time ago, but yes, I was that man. Now, I'm a successful businessman and a father." A loud silence filled the room as it all sank in.

"Do you regret the lives you've taken?" she asked. It definitely wasn't the question he expected.

"I wasn't exactly raised with a strong sense of fraternity with my fellow man. No love, no compassion, only fear, hate and anger. But I've learned what it is to respect life and each person's right to live their own torment until its natural end. So in a way I do regret what I've done and there is no excuse for such evil. I may have avoided prison, but I have paid for my sins. I am still paying for them and probably will until I breathe my last. Death is a gift for those who are worthy. Life is the punishment for those of us who fail."

Erik heard Lisa swallow the lump in her throat as she tried to digest his admission. His comments weren't exactly encouraging; they were filled with bitterness and resentment. Dangerous emotions that Lisa knew could poison the soul, and they had been all he'd known his entire life, or at least until Christine and Gustave.

"Why tell me all this?" Lisa wasn't a priest set to here confession or a lawyer working on angles to acquit a client. Surely it put him, his empire and even his son at risk to divulge such sensitive information. Even though his crimes were many years old now, he'd still be a wanted man. Would she betray them, could she?

"I don't know. Perhaps some part of me desires judgment… or absolution, and I'm not the type to seek out a priest." Strangely enough, after having admitted some of the darkest deeds of his life, Erik did feel different. He felt lighter and cleaner, as if his heart had been dipped into sacred springs and rinsed of filth. "Anyway, I'm sure you've had suspicions from the information Gustave has given combined with what you already know." Lisa looked over to the boy, whose profile seemed all the more precious to her now. There was no question that Gustave had taken up residence in Lisa's heart, and she cared for the child as if he was her own flesh and blood.

"How much does Gustave know?" Lisa asked. Erik closed his eyes for just a moment before answering. The question touched the core of his shame in regards to whom and what he was.

"He knows his father is a monster, but not the kind that kidnaps, kills and defrauds. He's only been given the pretty version of events, and if you don't mind I'd like it kept that way. He's already suffered so much from the loss of his mother, there's no need for him to carry the weight of my sins with him as well."

"Of course, you have my word." She assured him, but there was no levity in her voice. The two of them sat in companionable silence drinking tea until the pot was emptied. Lisa knew she would not betray the trust he'd so unexpectedly given her. If she was able to be honest with herself, even if she'd known about Erik's past from the very beginning she still would have kept that confidence. That realization unnerved her even more than thinking she sat in the presence of, and had actually been living 2 weeks with, the infamous Phantom of the Opera.

"It's very late, or very early depending on your point of view. I'm going to try and get some sleep, and I recommend you do as well." Lisa stood and looked over to Erik, but he didn't acknowledge her. He could sense her trepidation in the feel of her eyes on him. There was another crack inside of him, and although he desired to rub the ache in his chest he remained stoic under her gaze.

"Do you want me out?" It surprised Erik how much anxiety he felt waiting for her answer, though he wouldn't allow her so see it.

Lisa walked around the table to stand next to the man. There was something deep from inside directing her. When she reached over to collect his hand in hers there was no resistance. Eric slowly shifted his eyes to find hers.

Never in his existence had anyone made such a gesture of compassion toward him, even Christine, who'd kissed him only under duress. Usually his first instinct would have been to pull away, but nothing had been usual for the past 3 years.

"Despite the evidence to the contrary, my instincts tell me we have nothing to fear from you." She glanced back to the child. "As you said, you're a father now. It's not my place to judge you either. Gustave will be alright, and everything will work out in the end. You both have friends here, and I hope we can learn to trust each other more." She released his hand and made her way to leave the room, but his voice stopped her just before she exited.

"Thank you Lisa." It was perhaps the first time in his entire existence that he'd spoken those words to another human being.

Lisa kept her composure all the way to her room, but when the door closed behind her she started to shake. It wasn't fear, or anger. Strangely enough it was the most intense feeling of disappoint. She wanted to slap him, to punish him for having been that person.

She walked over to the fireplace in her room and gripped the mantel, seeking to hold something strong and solid. The warmth from the brazier stung her face as she looked down into its glow. A part of her had known, but another part had hoped, while another secret part of her had desired. Now what did she have?

Feeling the dismay well up within her, Lisa grabbed a small painted nick knack from the shelf and flung it into the fire. It shattered instantly. The fire ignited the paint and caused a sudden rush of colored flames to burst forth. Lisa stumbled back from the unexpected spurt, and for several moments she just watched the shards of pottery become blackened by the flames.

The fire wasn't hot enough to warp the fragments, only stain them. At their core they remained the same in spite of the heat. When the fire cooled she could possibly collect the shards and reassemble it, she just had to be careful not to cut herself. But once broken the ornament would never be the same.

How many times had Erik been broken, only to pick up the pieces of himself, even when knowing that he'd just get broken again? How many people had been cut by his jagged edges?


	21. Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

Dr. Gilles' visits were as regular as clockwork. Everyday promptly at 10 he would arrive at the mansion. Lisa would greet him and escort him to the guestroom where an anxious Mr. Y and eager Gustave were waiting. While the physician attended his patient, Kara would bring a pot of steaming hot coffee for him to enjoy.

The old man had a wonderful bedside manner, especially when it came to children. His own offspring were grown and starting families of their own so he especially enjoyed interacting with his younger patients.

Erik watched the doctor interact with Gustave with an envious eye. The way some people, like the doctor and Lisa, were so easily communicative perplexed him. It was an art that he could not get a handle on. Even though he'd made vast improvements on a social level, he still couldn't envision himself out there making friends or rubbing shoulders with the general public.

When he was younger he desired to rise up and reach the world, to share and be loved for his music. That dream had died like so many others, but he found a level of contentment in the amusement park. Through Phantasma he was still able to connect with the world in a small way. It was his vision that gave pleasure to multitude of park goers that flooded the island every day.

When they applauded the performers at the concert hall, it was his music and design that entertained them. It may have been a pale shadow of the opera's he so loved to compose and still longed to see performed, but it was enough in the end.

Though it had been a difficult journey, Erik had started coming to terms with the fact that he would never see his life's work on a stage. But there was still hope for Gustave. Phantasma would be the legacy to ensure the boy's future.

Erik wasn't sure what path his son would choose in life, but he would do everything in his power to make sure he had limitless options. Whether he chose to be a composer, pianist, inventor, or adventurer, Erik knew that Gustave would not only outshine the world. His son gave him pride and hope unlike anything he'd ever imagined.

Dr. Gilles' examinations of the boy were taking less time with each passing day. When the old man came into the guestroom with their hostess he went straight to attending his patient. He'd only acknowledge everyone else after his task was complete, at which time he would sit at the small table, take us the coffee cup Lisa had prepared and started to give his prognosis.

"I am very pleased with his progress. He's made a remarkable recovery in record time considering the nature of his ordeal. There's no sign of the fever's resurgence or lasting impairment from his head injury. He's in excellent spirits and energetic." He concluded before diving in to his beverage. Dr. Gilles knew the Aguilar's were more tea drinkers than anything else, but Kara made the best damn cup of coffee he'd ever had.

"I want to go outside." said Gustave from across the room.

"I think I'd be the best judge of that young man,."

"Just to the garden, it's so beautiful outside and I miss the Sun." he asked, using that very endearing and rather affective tone that often got him what he asked for. Gustave wasn't a spoiled child, but he had a way of asking for things that made others think it was in his best interest to get his way. He didn't use this talent often, but like any child it was a tool he always had readily available. The old man couldn't help to smile at the boy's enthusiasm.

"Well, perhaps just an hour a day for now, but only during the high point of the day when there's the least amount of chill in the air. Be sure to dress him warmly and if he even coughs bring him directly inside and back to bed with a hot bowl of broth." Dr. Gilles directed this last comment to Lisa and it made her suddenly uncomfortable.

She suddenly realized she must have been giving Gustave a fair amount of mothering during his recovery, though Erik had not commented in any way about it she suddenly felt embarrassed by it. Dr. Gilles new pretty much all there was to know about her history, so she was sure he could comprehend how she felt towards the boy.

"Of course; the kittens are running around the entire yard now that they are almost weaned. Maybe we can convince a couple of them to come out to play." Gustave beamed. When last they'd seen the litter they were just wriggling little fur balls, but the child had been enchanted by them.

Gustave had told Lisa he'd been forced to leave behind his own pet dog when his family had left for the journey to America. Although he later wrote to inquire as to the animal's well-being, he'd never received a reply. All he could do now was hope that his cherished Philippe was happy and being well cared for.

Erik listened to the exchange without commenting. Gustave couldn't quite read his expression, but he didn't look enthused. Had it been up to the boy they'd have headed to the overgrown garden the instant Dr. Gilles took his leave, but Lisa made him wait until after lunch.

At first hid father had not wanted to accompany them, but with just a little cajoling from his son he agreed. Gustave was given a long knit sweater called a lopapeysa to wear. Lisa explained that it had been given to her on a trip to Iceland with her father. Gustave was amazed at just how warm the material was, as if it held its own heat source. But by the time he felt the sunlight on his face there was no amount of discomfort from the cold that could distract him.

Like his father Gustave loved the night and the new seductive world that emerged in the darkness. But there was a freshness and levity to the daytime that no child could ignore. It called out for exploration and adventure like the songs of birds from the trees and bushes.

His father trailed behind them as Gustave and Lisa exited the side door into the foliage. Even though Erik knew the grounds were guarded by tall stone walls and the abundance of greenery shadowed the lawn in a perpetual twilight, being outside in the middle of the day made him edgy. Gustave had noticed his father's unease, but it could not dampen his spirits and he longed to share his joyous exuberance with the most important people in his life.

The trio travelled through the well-worn stone path winding its way thru the brush for several minutes before they found their quarry. Lisa had given Gustave a length of blue yarn to dangle in front of the spot where the kittens had been born.

Within a few seconds one golden mackerel tabby fearlessly leaped from the bushes to attack. After a few more moments its sibling joined in the fun and dived for Lisa's red string as well. It was a simple pleasure, but one that filled the air with laughter.

Erik had once thought of getting a pet while he'd lived under the Garnier, but had decided against it when he'd discovered Christine. When she'd come into his life everything else except his music had taken a backseat. Still, he'd always felt a level of affinity for animals.

In the gypsy circus he'd empathized with the creatures who received the same level of irreverent care he had. There had even once been a large tomcat, velvety grey with golden eyes that would slink in and out of the bars of his cage. It had never come close enough for Erik to touch, but he'd imagine that its fur would have been soft and warm.

The thought stirred an impulse inside of him, and while the other two were entertained making the kittens jump and leap for the strings knelt down next to them. As if on cue an adult cat emerged from the bush and marched confidently up to him. Without hesitation she began to rub the length of her body against every part of him she could reach.

Erik reached out and started to pet her soft pelt. It was just like he'd expected, luxuriant and silken. The feline responded by purring loudly and pushing her head into Erik's hand. Lisa watched in awe. The cat, which she'd named Andromeda, had always been sweet, but she'd never seen her take to someone as readily as she had to this man.

"Is this usual?" Erik asked absently. Nobody answered. Even Gustave watched struck by the creature's open affection towards his father. In time the kittens and their mother grew tired of the group and retreated back into the jungle.

They continued their walk around the property, following a path that meandered through the trees and bushes. When they came to small clearing Lisa took a seat on a long stone bench that was set in front of a gurgling fountain. It was probably the only space in the entire lawn that being mostly maintained.

The fountain was relatively large for a city dwelling, even a mansion. Its waters were clean and clear, flowing freely from 3 tiers to the large basin below. The suns ray shone fully on the area, making the jetting streams sparkle brilliantly.

Gustave walked up to the structure and began to interrupt the flowing water with his hand.

"Try not to get wet or we'll have to go inside. Remember what the doctor said." Lisa remarked.

"Alright." responded the boy.

"He seems perfectly well. It won't be long and you'll be able to take him home." She said offhandedly.

"Indeed." She wasn't looking at the man, but he was looking at her. The sunlight gave Lisa's skin a new radiance and locks of her hair shimmered like a crystal. Surrounded by the wildness of the garden she looked like a sprite that had escaped from a painting.

Erik took a seat next to her on the bench. Immediately the proximity of her body to his affected him. Lisa turned to look at him, and when their eyes met their gazes seemed locked together.

"Can we play a game?" asked the boy, effectively breaking the spell.

"Of course, but it has to be quick. Dr. Gilles said 1 hour and it's nearly been two.

"How about hide and go seek. Fathers played before, one time in the fun house, but it will be so much better with the 3 of us. Erik was not averse to the idea and didn't argue, though Lisa seemed hesitant.

"That's a great idea." She said finally, I'll be it first and the fountain can be home base." Lisa covered her eyes and the game began. When she looked up both her comrades was nowhere to be found. She didn't rush her search, knowing that the boy wanted to draw out his time as much as possible and the day was wonderfully pleasant.

Lisa stood a few moments under the drooping limbs of an old oak waiting for a sign of her prey. It wasn't long before she heard the rustling of under growth made by someone walking slowly. She followed the sound carefully, causing no noise of her own. Just as he emerged from the foliage in a dash for the fountain, Lisa grabbed Gustave around the middle and swung the laughing boy around in a circle before setting him down on his feet. He was much heavier than that day she'd carried him up the stairs.

"Gotcha!" she announced.

When both of them looked up they saw Erik standing quietly by the fountain. The next round started a moment later, and Lisa hid herself well among the bushes along the far wall. She had the advantage of knowing every inch of the grounds and the best places to be concealed. She could even see the fountain and watched while a dark figure moved through the bushes.

"Gotcha!" yelled Gustave as he pounced on his father and wrapped his arms around the man's middle. While they were distracted, Lisa slid out of her spot and sat on the edge of the fountain, waiting to be noticed.

Next was Erik's turn to be it. Lisa found a place far across from where the fountain stood, in a crevice made by the bend of the building and covered thickly by decade's worth of ivy hanging off the walls. She waited until all was silent, even the chirping of the finches and scurrying of lizards, before moving slowly towards base.

Lisa had only gone a few feet when a black mass moved out of the shadows and strong arms wrapped themselves around her, securing her body against the hard wall of a man's body. His heat instantly engulfed her and she gasped to catch her breath.

"Gotcha." He said against her neck. The sensation made every inch of Lisa's body tingle. He just held her there for an unknown length of time. Lisa stood completely still encased in his grip, like a trapped fawn. His arms crisscrossed over her abdomen while long fingers folded over each of her hips.

She should have been scared, and trying to get away, but she wasn't. It was like she'd fallen into the welcoming arms of a dark angel with no desire to be free.

"Safe, safe, anybody out there?" came Gustave's voice, interrupting their suddenly encapsulating world. Lisa pushed off from Erik's solid form and quickly made her way to the fountain. When she saw Gustave she instantly calmed, but her mind felt foggy like she'd been awakened from a deep sleep. A few seconds later she heard Erik's boots crunch the gravel behind her.

"Um, I think that's enough games for today. I think I'd really like a hot cup of tea." Gustave was about to protest, but one look from his father told him it would be unwise. Either way the boy was still content. It had been a glorious day to him.

When they reached the side entrance of the manor, Kara was already waiting to call them in for tea. Ever observant, she noted the flushed look on Lisa's face as well as the faintly embarrassed expression on Mr. Y's half face. The stark white of his mask seemed to make the flesh of his face more animated than usual.

Kara didn't want them to notice what she had, so she took Gustave's hand and led the way to Mrs. Aguilar's sitting room.

"So you and Gustave have played this game before?" asked Lisa, trying to dissolve the awkward cloud around them.

"At night in the park once; in the dark when there is no one else around, Phantasma takes on a new life, especially in places like the hall of mirrors. It just happened the first time I took Gustave there. He found it very thrilling." He remarked.

"Sounds enchanting, it sounds delightful having an entire amusement park at your disposal, especially for a young boy."

"Maybe one day you'd like to see it."

"Yes, that would be lovely." She replied. On the outside Lisa wanted to look as calm and still as one of her paintings, but inside there was a frenzied storm whipping in her mind.


	22. Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

There was a lot going on inside of Erik that he wasn't accustomed with. But the one thing he did recognize was the feeling it set off inside of him when Lisa entered the room. It was very close to those tender feelings he'd experienced with his angel. Erik had nearly hyperventilated when the painfully familiar sensation floated into his mind one evening.

He was able to blame the following coughing fit on indigestion and even enjoyed the injured look on Kara's face. Erik never missed the suspicious glare she often tossed his way. Although he didn't believe Lisa had relayed any of his sins to her she still didn't trust him.

Erik had expected some change in Lisa's demeanor after his confessions. Though she did seem a little more reticent than before she remained open and welcoming towards him. She continued to join him each evening and they still talked as comfortably as they ever had, but they did not speak of what he'd disclosed, or of Christine.

Whether they were chatting or just sitting companionably in the dark night, Erik and Lisa were been growing closer together every passing day. He'd excused the incident in the garden as just a fluke. The thought that she'd actually be affected by him was just an unwelcome fantasy the he had to dispel as quickly as possible. Thankfully there time at the mansion was coming to a close.

As the second week of their sojourn was coming to an end Dr. Gillis declared Gustave recovered enough to go home. From then on the mood of the household began to grow somber. Being as generous and eager to please as any person Lisa had ever known, Gustave surprised everyone at dinner one night by announcing his desire to give them all a grand concert of his own compositions as a final farewell on their last night. There was no way anyone could disagree. The boy rattled off his list of required attendees. His father, Lisa, Momma Aguilar, Kara, Dr. Gillis, Mr. Gangle, Miss Fleck, Squelch and Madam Giry. They would all have 3 days to prepare for what he promised would be the highlight of the year.

Although it was Lisa's preference not to leave the manor, it fell on her to handle her parent's estate and holdings. Once a month she kept appointments with the family lawyers and business partners to review the status of their accounts and investments.

Lisa took her responsibility very seriously and even though she was reticent of leaving her guests, she left mid-morning one day to satisfy her duty. Erik also took the opportunity to make a trip to Coney Island to assess the status of its operation and address some management issues. Gustave was left in the company of Mrs. Aguilar in the music room where he could prepare his upcoming performance.

The day dragged on for Lisa as she listened to the droll yammering of the men who were employed to oversee her family's wealth. Most had known her a long time and knew better than to talk to her like she was one of the silly women they were accustomed to dealing with, but they would sometimes relapse and treat her like a simpleton.

The American market was showing signs of faltering since the war, and although they wanted to talk to her as if there was nothing to worry about she had already formulated her plan and expected them to carry out her instructions without question. Over the next few years the money directed to stocks and the exchange would be shifted into more stable investments, both domestic and foreign. Lisa had been well educated in finance and wanted to be sure her family's wealth would always be healthy, robust and secure.

By the time she was freed from the trade halls night had already descended. Lisa found a taxi that took her to the mansion's front gate. The house was dark, not surprising since it was well past 11 pm. She climbed the stairs languidly and headed to Gustave's room where she expected to find Erik waiting with a hot cup of tea.

When she slowly opened the door, she was surprised not to see Erik. Instead it was Gustave's very awake face that greeted her. He sat in the center of his bed on top of the coverlet with a pile of music sheets in front of him and a pencil in his hand. He looked up and smiled widely to see her.

"It's very late. Shouldn't you be sleeping?" She asked as she entered and took a seat across from him on the bed. He just stared at her for several moments with a quizzical look. "What are you staring at?" she asked.

"Oh, sorry, it's just I've never seen you looking so normal before; the dress, shoes, and even your hair done so properly."

"Well that's one way of telling me I normally look like a slob. I prefer comfort to style thank you very much."

"I didn't mean it like that, just that you look different. You're very beautiful and would be even if you were wearing a potato sack." He amended.

"That would be very itchy I think." She said with a giggle. "Now stop trying to change the subject and explain why you're up so far past your bed time."

"I was waiting for father so that I could ask his advice on this music, but I don't think I can keep my eyes open a minute longer anyway." On queue the boy yawned wide. Lisa reached over and ruffled his hair affectionately, then collected the music into one neat pile and put it on the night stand.

Gustave crawled to the head of the bed, tucked his legs and body under the blanket to settle back against the pillows. Lisa leaned over and gave him a peck on the forehead as she did every night before turning to exit, but this time the boy called her back. She sat down next to him and waited to hear what he needed. Gustave looked at her expectantly for several seconds before he spoke.

"Lisa, can I ask you something?" he probed tentatively.

"Anything dearest." She replied. He smiled up at her, relishing the warmth of such an endearment.

"My mother used to sing me to sleep most nights when I was little. Would you sing me a song? It doesn't have to be anything grand, just a lullaby will do, please." Lisa's heart leapt at the thought of exercising such a liberty, even considering how close they'd all become, and the expectant look on Gustave's face left no room for refusal.

She chose an English ballad that had always been one of her favorites. She started nervously, but as each verse flowed into the next her voice filled with feeling.

 _Some say love, it is a river that drowns the tender reed.  
Some say love, it is a razor that leaves your soul to bleed.  
Some say love, it is a hunger, an endless aching need.  
I say love; it is a flower and you its only seed._

 _It's the heart afraid of breaking that never learns to dance.  
It's the dream afraid of waking that never takes a chance.  
It's the one who won't be taken, and cannot seem to give.  
And the soul afraid of dying the never learns to live._

 _When the night has been too lonely and the road has been too long  
and it seems that love is only for the lucky or the strong  
just remember that in the winter far beneath the bitter snow  
lies the seed that with the sun's love in the spring becomes the rose._

Lisa held the last note as long as she could and let it die slowly. Gustave looked up at her with a bright smile that lasted even after his eyes fluttered closed. She watched him several minutes as he slipped into a satisfied slumber, his breathing the deep and even rhythm of a happy child. She stood slowly, feeling envious of such an untroubled rest and thinking she was fatigued enough to try it for herself. When she turned to reach the door she realized she'd had more of an audience.


	23. Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

Her voice was a rich, full alto that flowed from her tongue like honey. It was as good as any of the practiced instruments he'd heard on both the stages of Paris and NY, better still in the intimate setting of the guestroom. And the words caused a curious feeling that tickled the inside of his mind.

Even after it had faded from the air, the sound continued to resonate in his body and softly caressed Erik's stifled heart. Since that fateful night on the pier his blood had run cold, stimulated only by love of his son. Now it started pumping a new vigor into his veins. The sudden rush of heat filling his limbs made him light headed.

When Lisa saw Erik standing in the doorway she stopped dead in her tracks with embarrassment. In the dark of the room she stood as still as a statue waiting for his reaction. The deep violet dress with lavishly embroidered sleeves, matching gloves and shoes that Lisa wore made her alien to the familiar environment of her home. Her hair was piled up and away from her face into a mass of tight curls from which only a couple of bouncing spirals escaped to fall down her neck.

For just a split second it seemed to Erik she was an apparition stepped out of time to confront him. He began to tremble as he took slow steps to stand only inches in front of her. His conscious mind had shut down and without knowing his intent he gripped Lisa by the upper arms tightly until she began to wince from the pressure.

"Erik, let go please you're hurting me." Lisa pleaded, trying to wriggle her arms out of his grip and gain freedom. Erik only stared dumbly back at her. His breathing had become ragged as panic began to sink in. His mind was replaying those long ago events that had traumatized him. The spell was only broken when a strange light glinted in the fierce green eyes of his captive. He immediately let go and Lisa pushed off from his chest to put some distance between them.

Lisa glared back at Erik wild eyed as she rubbed the ache from her arm. Fury began to build inside her until she watched Erik fall to his knees and quietly begin to sob. The sting of her anger disappeared in a puff of concern as she rushed to his side, falling to the floor in front of him and gathering his limp hands into her own. He raised confused eyes filled with tears to meet hers. Lisa recognized the faraway look in his eyes and understood what had happened.

"I… I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me." He stuttered. Lisa had to take several deep breaths before she could respond.

"I always thought I had a pleasant enough voice, not bad enough to send someone into hysterics." She tried to joke. Erik let out a choked grunt that might have been a chuckle if not for the strain of his emotions. When he managed to regain control they both rose off the floor in unison, still clutching hands.

"I think I just need some rest. It's been a trying day." He said softly. Lisa was surprised to find she felt very disappointed, but didn't want to press the matter if he wasn't willing to discuss it. She nodded and dislodged her gloved fingers from his.

"Of course, I'm very tired as well. I'll see you in the morning." Erik nodded back. Lisa didn't know what compelled her to do it. She took the one step that separated them and wrapped her arms around Erik's solid frame. He was stiff against her for several tense moments before he was able to lift his arms and return the embrace. It might have only been a moment or two that they stood there, but it felt like hours when they finally stepped apart, feeling immediately bereft of the others presence. Lisa mouthed a shy goodnight, made her way around him and left the room.

Erik remained where he was as he regained his full composure. Moving mechanically he went to give Gustave a kiss on the fore head and went to his room. Had he been more aware of the world around him he might have noticed that although the boy's eyes were closed Gustave was wide awake. Once his father had closed the door behind him, Gustave sat up in bed and considered what he'd witnessed.

There had been a moment where all the pain of his father's past had gripped him and taken control, and in that moment he'd reached out for Lisa's help. It may not have been the kind of romantic moment he'd read about in fairytales, but its implications were the same in his mind.

Gustave hadn't preyed since his mother's funeral, but before he lay back down in the bed he closed his eyes, brought his palms together and whispered a silent entreaty to god and his mother to make the impossible possible.

The next couple of days passed very much the same as the preceding twelve had, except that Lisa and Erik's every move was now being catalogued by Gustave as well as Kara, though for very different reasons.

At dinner on the eve of their departure, Mama Aguilar regaled the group one last time with the retelling of her romance. One might think the story would have gone stale, but with each incarnation the teller would divulge another tasty tidbit that made it worth hearing again. Not to mention the enthusiasm and vigor with which she told it.

The old woman had developed a bothersome cough, a sign she said that the oncoming winter would be harsh, so she retired early while the others sat in the music room listening to Erik play. The music was like a serenade, coaxing tender feelings of longing and hope from its audience. But none were affected as much as Lisa and Erik.

Gustave fell asleep promptly by the third song as he always did, signaling the end to the evening. It was bittersweet for Lisa to join Erik in Gustave's room on the eve of their last day in the manor.

"You'll be getting back home just in time, this was the last of your tea." She said as she sipped the steaming liquid.

"I could have some delivered if you think you'll miss it." He suggested.

"No, that's alright. It's good enough, but I actually prefer our regular blend."

"You should have told me. I never required you to suffer through it for my sake."

"There was no suffering. I think it's good to try something new now and then, and it does have an interesting spice."

"I understand it might be a little too much for the unaccustomed palate." He said with a twinkle in his eye.

"Humph, if I didn't know it was just your sense of humor I'd call you an insufferable man."

"I had the impression you liked my sense of humor, or perhaps you were merely laughing AT me and not with me." He teased. Erik had learned some of the finer points of friendly banter, but the fine line that made it flirting was already being pushed.

Lisa rolled her eyes, but the smile that lit her face betrayed her attempts at seeming vexed. It didn't take long for a bit of melancholy to taint her mood and make her frown into her drink.

"You seem sad. I thought you'd be relieved to have some peace and quiet restored to your home."

"It seems I've had plenty of peace and quiet. It felt good having company, and I'm sorry to see you go." On whatever level it was viewed, it was as completely honest an answer as she could give, though it wasn't the complete truth.

"It won't be forever. Though Gustave won't be well enough to visit for a while longer, you're more than welcome to call at our home anytime." Erik turned away to look at Gustave's form as it had sprawled across the coverlet.

Lisa now saw the gesture as an indication that he was feeling timorous. It was one of many she'd come to recognize. She had to look away suddenly as she fought an unexpected impulse to reach out for his hand. The uncharacteristic jerk of her head pulled Erik's attention back to her.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes." Lisa croaked, her voice suddenly becoming thick.

"Can I ask you something?" he inquired. Erik didn't usually ask permission when he wanted something.

"Of course."

"What kind of man was your husband?" he asked with a blasé air. The tightness around Lisa's heart seemed tenfold compared to usual, but her throat didn't tighten as it normally did on the subject. She cleared her throat and looked away, fixing her gaze on Gustave.

"That's not an easy question to answer if you didn't know him. My father found him at an Irish port, pick-pocketing the drunken sailors. The captain had caught him hanging about the local whore house, his pockets already heavy with loot, and threatened to hang him from the yard arm. Had it not been for Armando Aguilar, first mate at the time, he'd of done it too.

My father respected his commander, but he often spoke of how difficult and unrelenting the man could be. So the first officer gave him another idea. Since the last cabin boy had died of dysentery they should just shanghai the lad and put him to work. He was around 10 I think.

Charles parents had died of plague and he'd had no other family. My father took him under his wing, and a few years later when the captain died from drink he promoted Charles to a full-fledged sailor. He remained with under my father's charge for 20 years before he retired and came home to my mother.

When I turned 18 father brought him to stay with us for a time. He'd been discharged from the navy rather dishonorably. Apparently he took offense to his current captain's affinity for the slave trade, and nearly beheaded the man while he was attempting to rape a colored woman. So he came with that same slave in tow."

"Do you mean Kara?" He asked. Lisa smiled brightly and nodded.

"I hated him at the start. He was arrogant, raucous and loud. And he thought I was pompous and self-righteous." She said, and Erik made a knowing guffaw. "But he definitely changed his mind once we took the time to get better acquainted. Kara was quite happy to be our matchmaker too."

"Really." He said with a disbelieving air.

"My father gave him work as a kind of attendant/bodyguard, so he went with us where ever we traveled."

"Your father approved when you announced your engagement, even though he was so beneath you."

"We aren't snobs Erik. My father was over the moon at the idea. Charles was like a son to him already, so he considered the pairing fated." She ended somberly.

"You must have been very in love." He said.

"He was my everything, my inspiration, my reason for seeing the beauty of the world and not despair its ugliness." She finished. For a long time no one spoke, even after the teapot was empty and the fire dwindled low.

"Would you tell me about Christine?"

"What is there to tell that Gustave hasn't already told you?" he replied sorrowfully. Lisa sighed loudly her frustration. "Perhaps one day I can tell you about her, but not today. I…" he trailed off, but didn't finish his thought.

Erik lay comfortably in his rented bed for the last time that night. More comfortably than he'd been since leaving his lair beneath the opera house, he admitted to himself. He didn't want to think if that was because of the softness of the mattress, the darkness of the room, or his proximity to others, especially to her.


	24. Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

The next day started early. Everyone wanted to give Gustave a proper recital, so they'd planned a real party complete with formal attire. Kara kept busy in the kitchen making sure all the food was prepared to her standards. She'd brought in some help to serve since she was expected as a guest.

Lisa spent the day getting her mother ready and then herself. It was a great way for them to spend time talking, but Mama Aguilar had just one subject she wanted to address.

"That's a good man there, wealthy, eligible, and with an obvious eye for you." said Mrs. Aguilar.

"Don't start momma. You know that is never going to happen." Lisa rebuffed.

"Why not, you need a man, he needs a woman, and Gustave needs a mother? I'm not going to live forever and I don't want you to waste away in this place."

"This place is my home and I love it here. Anyway, when the time comes I might take a trip down to the house in Florida for a while. I'm sure Kara would love it."

"Come now child, you need to think about your future and stop living in the past."

"My future ended 15 years ago with 2 bullets. Please momma, leave it alone. I don't have it in my heart to start over." She responded, but her voice cracked uncharacteristically.

"How can you know when you keep your heart locked up?" debated the older woman.

"Is this coming from the woman that waited till she was 35 for her true love to claim her?" Lisa shot back.

"It's not the same. Charles isn't out there waiting for you dearest, he is gone. You don't honor him by refusing to live your life. Is that what you think he'd want you to do?" Gloria asked.

"As you so elegantly pointed out, he isn't here to give his opinion. But I do believe I will see him again, so I'm not going to waste my time on less honorable suitors." Lisa sighed heavily and plopped down on the mattress next to her mother. "I hear what you say mama. The problem is I don't think I have it in me to feel it again. I know you understand that I've had the kind of love most people only dream of. _How can I desire water after having tasted the finest wine?_ " she said with a grand air and deepened accent.

"Ach, it's not fair for you to use my own words against me." Her mother said.

"I know you mean well, and I'm sorry I wasn't able to give you a grandchild."

"That doesn't matter to me. I only want your happiness. If the boys are looking down on us from heaven, do you think they'd be happy with what they see?"

"I love you momma. All I need is you." Lisa leaned over to wrap her arms around her mother, and her heart lifted slightly from the feel of her solid form.

Gloria Aguilar held on to her daughter as tightly as her old arms would let her, but she knew she wouldn't be able to hold on forever. The moment passed and they continued on with getting ready. When Mama Aguilar was satisfied with her appearance she asked Lisa to send Gustave down for a quick chat.

Lisa left the pair talking secretively in the sitting room while she went to her quarters to dress. She'd ordered a gown from a shop in midtown. Lisa had seen it in the window on her last outing, but had not considered purchasing it until she was given an occasion for wearing it.

She'd sent for the same seamstress they'd used over the last 10 years to make the proper adjustments to Lisa's measurements. It was short notice, but Marilyn was well skilled and willing to take up the task.

The woman arrived early in the afternoon with the garment and was soon helping Lisa step into it. When Lisa had stepped in front of the mirror to see herself it was like another person was staring back at her. It had been so many years since she'd worn such luxuriant attire that she'd forgotten how otherworldly it made one feel.

The dress was a deep iridescent forest green that caught the light beautifully and seemed to shimmer like a trembling leaf after a summer storm.

"Oh my, your beau will certainly go weak in the knees when he sees you." the seamstress gushed.

"What?" Lisa was taken off guard by the comment.

"The man staying here, aren't you two courting?"

"Uh, where did you hear that?" Lisa asked. The other woman's face flushed as she realized she may have misspoke.

"Oh… well… um, it's just an assumption I guess… I didn't mean to imply..." She said, trying to recover.

"It's alright Marilyn, let's just get me into this and then we can get started with my hair."

"Of course Mrs. Faolan."

"Call me Lisa, please." A lump caught in Lisa's throat when she heard her married name used, as it always did, but she fought it back as she always did.

By the time they were done, dusk had fallen and the other attendees had started filing in. Lisa stepped quietly out of her room and looked over the railing to examine them. She recognized everyone, even the somber Madam Giry who stood apart from the group talking with Kara.

She was dressed all in black from head to toe and had jet black hair that stood in heavy contrast to the pale skin if her face. Her austere expression did not lend itself to someone whose kindness and compassion had saved Erik, but this was a woman who'd endured plenty of hardship in recent years and Lisa could not know what other tribulations may have marred her life. Her only concern remained with how this woman related to Gustave, and Erik.

Lisa didn't want to prejudge the woman based on the limited information she had, but the face and attitude she discerned by watching her didn't encourage sympathy. Lisa was so distracted by her thoughts that she didn't notice the presence that had joined her on the landing until everyone in the foyer turned to look up.

Erik didn't concern himself with the crowd of voyeurs at the bottom of the stairs. His attention was squarely set on Lisa. He'd never seen her done up so elegantly, just like the woman of leisure and status her wealth called her to be.

Except for the incident a few days earlier, during his time with her she'd always worn her boyish denim overalls or a man's shirt and trousers, or the rather unflattering night dress that replaced her negligee. Though her attire had been masculine by design, there was no way she could look anything but feminine in anything she wore; such was her beauty even when understated.

Her arms and shoulders were bare all the way down her arms. She wore delicate black lace gloves that made her hands look dainty. The bodice of her dress pressed tightly around her curves and pushed her already ample bosom forward. She looked like the most beautiful marionette brought to life, but Erik knew this was not a puppet to be manipulated. A challenge perhaps, but nothing like…

"You look exquisite." He complimented her as he approached, giving her a shallow bow without breaking eye contact.

"Thank you. You look amazing as well, like you were born wearing a tuxedo." Lisa thought about how silly a comment it was only after she'd said it, but didn't fail to curtsy appropriately. She needed to keep composure or it was going to be a very difficult evening.

Erik offered his elbow, which she took graciously, and together they descended the stairs. Everyone in the foyer watched in complete silence, gawking at the sight of the strange pair. Mr. Y's small court beamed as proudly as ever they had to see such a change in the man who'd made such a difference in their lives.

Madam Giry kept her expression detached, but within her a conflagration of emotion was building. She though first of Christine, who'd been seduced by the man and lost her life as consequence of his scheming; she thought of Meg, who'd given everything she'd ever had to give for his sake only to be rebuked and tossed aside like flotsam; and finally Antoinette thought of herself.

How many times had she risked herself for his sake? How much had she invested in making sure that he was protected from gypsies and angry mobs? How often had she ignored the crimes he'd committed and still given her faith, loyalty and love?

Though no one else in the assembly could hear it, something broke inside of her. That he would dare aspire to live a life free of his past sins.

Now he had this woman on his arm, radiant with obvious affection like he was a prince instead of the devil and a murdering villainous wretch whose association could lead only to ruination. Antoinette's anger boiled, her resentment ballooned and venom filled her veins, but she was not the only one deeply affected by sight of Lisa and Erik side by side.

Kara observed carefully every aspect of what was happening. Everyone seemed to have picked up on the way Erik and Lisa regarded each other and the special regard they held. Everyone seemed to be pleased by this except for herself and the somber madam Giry, whose eyes were near to spitting fire at the image of her master linked in arms with Kara's mistress.

Kara took this as a small verification that her suspicions were well founded, but she would need more if she were to confront Lisa with facts, especially seeing the way she was clearly affected by the masked man.

Once they were assembled in the foyer and the introductions were done, the 8 attendees were led to the dining room by Kara who then directed each to their appointed seat. Mrs. Aguilar was already seated at the head of the dinner table waiting for them with Gustave, who'd been keeping her company. They'd been talking alone for some time, and all that they'd said, revealed and confided hung in the air around them like an embrace.

Except for the ever present mask, Gustave was the mirror image of his father in his tuxedo with tails. He beat his father to Lisa's chair and stood expectantly waiting for her to be seated. Erik didn't mind acceding that honor to the boy. It gave him pride to see his son behaving like the gentleman he expected him to be, with a little bit of charming rogue on the side.

Lisa and Kara took their usual places to Mama Aguilar's left with Madam Giry and Ms. Fleck. Across from them Erik sat to the matron's right, with Gustave, Gangle and Squelch next to them. Dr. Gilles took up the other end of the table opposite Gloria.

The meal flowed pleasantly, with Mrs. Aguilar leading the conversation with all the stories of her long life starting with her favorite. Everyone listened with rapt attention, owing to the fact that Gloria was such a magnificent oracle. By the fifth and final course everyone in the group was enthralled with the old woman's charm.

Once the dishes had been cleared away, Gustave took charge of the group and led everyone up the stairs to the ballroom. This time he took Lisa's arm while Erik obligingly carried Mama Aguilar up the stairs. Squelch had offered to take up the task instead, but the old woman would have none of it.


	25. Chapter 25

CHAPTER 25 A Grand Debut

Small round tables with chairs had been laid out in the ball room near to the grand piano so that those enjoying the performance could also enjoy the beverage of their liking. Erik set Mama Aguilar at the front with Lisa, than he took up the adjacent table with Dr. Gilles. On the other side Gangle, Fleck and Squelch settled, while Kara and Madam Giry sat in the back.

When everyone was in place the hired servants came forward to provide everyone with drinks, but they didn't approach the head table. Instead the ladies were immediately supplied with a perfectly chilled bottle of Domaines Barons De Rothschild 1890.

Lisa immediately knew how it had happened and turned in her chair to see Erik's self-satisfied expression. Lisa had told him during one of their chats that she'd tasted it while in Paris and had loved it, but was unable to locate the rare vintage in the states.

Gustave waited patiently until the servers were done, but wasted no time once they withdrew. He immediately stepped to the front of the congregation to begin the night's entertainment.

"Thank you all so very much for coming. I'm so very excited to be playing for you tonight. I want to dedicate my first piece to my dear mother, whom I love and miss very much." Without further comment the boy took his place on the piano bench and rested his fingers on the ivory keys. The connection he felt with the instrument was as electric as it had always been, but tonight there was something more.

As Gustave began to push down on the keys and his music filled the air, it seemed another presence entered his spirit. It traveled through his body to his hands and out into the keys and filled every note that the tightly coiled strings made. It sang through the music giving it more depth and life than he'd even believed it could. It flowed like manna from heaven, and though there were no words it spoke of death and rebirth, despair and hope.

By the time the music winded down to its final chords, not one person present could deny it was truly a masterful work of art. At first Gustave thought the silence that followed his finale meant that he'd failed somehow, but then his father stood up and began giving him applause. Lisa immediately followed than everyone else. No one had managed to make it through the performance without shedding tears.

Gustave was thrilled. He ran forward and rushed to hug his father, then turned to Lisa and Mama Aguilar with the same treatment. After many congratulations and pats on the back Gustave surprised everyone by returning to the piano.

"Now my good friends, I think it's time this ballroom saw some dancing. It's been so many years and I long to see a waltz again." Mrs. Aguilar had stood and gestured for everyone to get up. Erik and Lisa sat as still as statues, but the others required no further coaxing. Dr. Gilles tried to get Mrs. Aguilar to the floor, but she complained that her knees just wouldn't have it, so he went to Madam Giry who politely took his hand and went to the floor with him.

Next Gangle approached Kara. Knowing where this was going and the older woman's intentions in arranging this little entertainment, she accepted and moved to the room's center with Frederick. Squelch picked up Ms. Fleck into his strong arms, and carrying her like a little girl proceeded to twirl around the floor with her.

Lisa could feel the moment Erik stood up behind her, but when he simply brushed past her heading towards the piano she couldn't help the frown that contorted her face. He bent low to whisper in Gustave's ear. It didn't seem the boy liked what he heard, but a moment later the man slid into place on the bench as his son slid off. He took up the same waltz Gustave had been playing without any pause.

Gustave came to where Lisa sat and offered her his hand. Lisa didn't know if she was relieved or frustrated, but she wasn't about to let the boy down. Smiling brightly she accepted his offer and together they joined the others.

Erik couldn't voice the emotion that began to grow in his chest as he watched Gustave dance around the empty ballroom with the strange Lisa. It came from seeing the fondness he saw in her eyes as she looked at the young man. It came from the adoring way Gustave looked back into her green eyes. But he felt it most when those emerald orbs would find his over the boys shoulder. The feeling would swell for the briefest of seconds as their eyes connected, and when she'd look away he felt bereft.

He was distracted by how the hem of her dress swept across the glossy floor. Every now and then it allowed one slippered foot to be seen as it stepped out in a wide circle. The shimmering silk of her dress accentuated the curves of her body, and even the most subtle movements of the waltz were alluring.

It woke him from the strange trance when the pair stumbled on a turn. Gustave's unpracticed feet had almost tripped the woman who giggled wholeheartedly at the misstep.

"Come here boy and play, let a man show you how it's done." Erik didn't know what compelled him to stand and approach them. He bowed as if they were at a proper ball and asked if he could cut in.

Gustave courteously offered him Lisa's hand then took his place at the piano. He continued the waltz his father had been playing. Erik pulled Lisa into his arms and began leading her effortlessly around the room. At first she resisted his guidance, feeling anxious at being so close to him. But the warmth of his body made her feel comfortable and soon they were gliding along the floor.

Neither was sure the moment it happened, when it stopped being a friendly dance and they became a man and a woman caught in a romance. Erik was trapped in her eyes and Lisa had melted into his embrace. They were so caught up in each other that they didn't notice as the others left the dance floor.

The first to depart was Madam Giry, looking fit to be tied as she stepped away from the doctor and headed for the door. Kara saw her moving to exit and went quickly to follow her into the hall. Gangle, Squelch, Ms. Fleck and Dr. Gilles decided than it would be a good time to leave, so they said their goodbyes to Mama Aguilar and withdrew after waving to Gustave.

The dancers saw none of it, and continued to make circuit after circuit around the ballroom. Even when Gustave stopped playing, they didn't stop dancing. The boy had seen the change between them and sat entranced as he watched them dance through silence. Mrs. Aguilar sat smugly eyeing them.

Slowly they came to a halt, but not from a lack of music. Although the effort of dancing had not been much, Lisa and Erik found they were both short of breath. They separated quickly when they realized the space was silent, looking around them shyly. Neither admitted it then, but both knew something had changed.

"It's late, perhaps it's time to call it a night." said Kara. Unable to find words, Erik only nodded.

Kara stayed behind and put the lights out while the others took Mrs. Aguilar to her room. Lisa then guided her guests to the front gate where the motorcar awaited with all their belongings. Gustave was eager enough to allow Lisa to embrace him in an affectionate hug, whereas Erik gave her only a proper kiss on the hand.

When the boys turned to file into the vehicle, Lisa lifted one hand and touched it to Erik's back. He instantly reacted by becoming tense and straightening. He didn't turn around to chastise her boldness. She spread her fingers, enticed to feel the muscle underneath his jacket.

Erik stood there a long moment after Gustave had settled into the car, relishing the sensation of her touch. For all its simplicity, it was for that moment while they stood connected a clearly erotic experience.

Lisa had spent the 15 years since Charles death neither expecting nor wanting the touch of another man, although her body had never stopped demanding the tender touch of her beloved. She'd always believed that with his passing any chance of loving like that again was impossible so she'd closed the door on that part of herself. Now, with this man standing only inches in front of her, her passion stirred for the first time since her husband.

Erik had only ever really desired one woman, a woman whose ghost still inhabited his almost every thought. Before Christine he'd expected to never be effected by the love he'd experienced, a love that blossomed for only one night, but whose effects had been the driving force of his life for nearly 20 years. Now, with this woman standing only inches behind him, touching him, his heart throbbed anew with a desire he'd thought dead to him. It both thrilled and horrified him.

Unknowing, Gustave broke the spell as he leaned out of the car door to see why his father had lingered. He couldn't see Lisa, or the tender caress happening between them. Erik finally broke the contact and stepped into the vehicle, closing the door and taking his seat by his son without looking at the woman who stood bewildered on the curb.

Gustave gave one last wave to the solemn Lisa as the vehicle pulled away. The boy saw the look of infinite sorrow on the unmasked side of the man's face and it struck his heart. Gustave was young, but he had no doubt that he cared deeply for the otherworldly Lisa. He also knew that before the accident his father had been dying slowly, and if Lisa could reignite the spark of life and inspiration in him she and she alone might be able to save him.

The night was silent as they pulled into the circular drive of their home. They were unhurried as they re-entered the home they'd made together, but there was an ever present emptiness that had accompanied them since leaving the mansion. Erik walked Gustave to his room and waited patiently for the child to prepare for sleep. Once the boy was situated in his bed, Erik gave him a small peck on the forehead and headed to the door. Gustave couldn't help but notice the far off look in his father's eyes.

"Is there something wrong father?" he asked.

"I should go check on the park. I want to be sure performances went smoothly." He lied, and Gustave knew what it meant. "You go ahead to bed. I'll be home by morning." Erik closed the door and stood in the dark hallway for a few minutes trying to organize his thoughts. The delicacy of the situation could not be denied. If things were to go badly the consequences could be disastrous for all.

Once his decision was made he wasted no time in heading back out the house and disappearing into the night on foot. Erik couldn't escape the inexplicable pull guiding him back to the mansion and to Lisa. There was something awakening in him that made the world around him infused with light, even in the depth of night, and his mind was stirring violently with the implications. There was music teasing the edge of his consciousness that would not give him rest.

" _Never thought I'd find the light again  
Become lost in the dark and rain  
And those skies, they soon would clear  
In my life, now you're here_

 _Why am I falling, falling in love with you tonight?  
Why am I dreaming, dreaming that we could turn out right  
I can't even resist, feel I only exist in your arms, in your arms_

 _Close the door on what I used to be  
Make it all a distant memory  
Lost myself in the night  
But those wrongs you made right_

 _Why am I falling, falling in love with you tonight?  
Why am I dreaming, dreaming that we could turn out right  
I can't even resist, feel I only exist in your arms, in your arms_

 _You put your faith into my name  
Healing me to love again_

 _Why am I falling, falling in love with you tonight?  
Why am I dreaming, dreaming that we could turn out right  
I can't even resist  
Feel I only exist in your arms, in your arms_

 _Why am I falling  
Why am I falling, falling in love with you tonight?"_


	26. Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

Lisa couldn't get into bed; the wide space of the mattress seemed like a barren desert about as hospitable as the Mohave. She'd taken a cold bath, hoping to wash away the new unease that was making her skin tingle. Instead she felt overly stimulated. She tried to read, but couldn't focus enough to absorb one paragraph. She tried to paint, but could only stand staring the canvas.

The disquiet of her mind and body was making each passing moment torturous. It had been a long time since she'd felt anything akin to this. Seeking some kind of relief, she left her room and began to pace the house in her night clothes. Now that the house was empty, she had reclaimed her negligee.

Lisa took no light with her, not fearing the darkness. There wasn't a corner of this building that she didn't know and couldn't find with her eyes closed, even the hidden doors and passages she never told anyone about.

It wasn't until she'd turned down the first floor hall outside of her studio that she felt a presence closing in behind her. The footsteps were quiet, but she could tell they were the heavy tread of a man. The fear that is part and parcel to the life of a woman made her skin go cold.

Lisa didn't change her pace or the stance of her body, even though every muscle was now on full alert. She waited until he was close enough for her to strike. When the moment came, she used the element of surprise to spin around and raise her knee sharply to where she believed the man's crotch was. She made immediate contact, but had no time to celebrate as she realized the man slowly sinking to the floor wore a familiar white porcelain mask.

"Oh my god Erik, what are you doing sneaking around in the dark?" said a shocked Lisa.

Erik raised his hand in response, needing several moments to overcome the pain that spread from his groin through his gut. It took several steadying breadths before he could speak.

"Risking castration apparently, but it is much deserved since I have again trespassed on your property."

Wanting to regain some of his dignity in spite of the situation, he straightened to his full height before finding Lisa's face in the gloom. Like before her feline eyes seemed to glow green in the darkness.

"I wanted to speak with you."

Lisa didn't know what to say. What could she do with a man who invaded her home on a whim? She couldn't deny her attraction to him, especially after the night's events and in spite of his past. The discomfort of the moment made the air around them palpable.

"Are you alright? Did I hurt you?" she asked.

"Only my pride, but it will recover quickly." Humor wasn't exactly his forte. Most would argue that he had no sense of humor to speak of, but the sad comedy of this moment wasn't beyond him.

Lisa didn't respond for a moment, as she considered the right thing to do. She struggled with what her mind thought was right, versus what her heart offered, on top of what her body desired. When she'd made her choice, she took Erik's hand and led him into the dark of the house.

The sitting room came to life as she lit a lamp on a table near the window. She sat down on a sofa set to look out into the wild garden, tucking her bare feet beneath her and gestured for him to join her.

It hadn't escaped Erik's notice that she was again wearing a negligee and that she might be chilled in the night air. Before taking a seat next to her, he removed his jacket and placed it around her shoulders. Lisa was immediately engulfed by his scent. She reflexive moistened her lips as her senses were stimulated.

"So, were you simply craving a late night chat or is there some pressing matter you wanted to discuss with me?" her tone reflected her feeling of agitation.

Erik didn't want to risk damaging their friendship, but it was a chance he had to take. Suddenly he felt too close to Lisa and stood. He walked casually over to the window to gaze out into the night. With the thick foliage no light permeated the black ink outside. It was threatening even to him, but not as threatening as what lay before him or the woman sitting behind him.

"You already know so much about me, more than any other person living in this cruel world." Erik's voice was strained as he battled the regret within him. "But perhaps there are other things you should know, especially if… well, after tonight it seems I may have an attachment to you." He turned only slightly so that he could glimpse her still form. Lisa closed her eyes as she absorbed his words.

"I too have an attachment, beyond that of friendship." She admitted. Erik's looked at her with astonished eyes. Surely he'd heard wrong, but when she looked back at him the full force of her meaning shown from her eyes. Erik was unable to make a sound while his eyes were locked on hers, so he turned slowly back to the window.

"I hope you understand that I'm not used to such attention." He said.

"What of the other women who've pursued you?" she asked lightly.

 _Was he being pursued now?_ Erik thought.

"Most women run from me screaming, and men seek to destroy me. Christine was the first person to treat me like something other than a monster, but even she…" even saying her name made his throat tighten.

"In the beginning we were more than just teacher and pupil, we were friends, my only friend. But as she blossomed into a beautiful young woman, I began to feel differently about our friendship.

The first problem was that she'd never actually seen me. I came to her only as a voice out of the darkness when she was alone. Her father had told her that she'd be visited by an angel of music after his death, and that's what she believed me to be. Cowardly I know, but I couldn't very well go calling at her door like a normal man.

I had hoped to make my introduction as a man and not an angel slowly to lessen the shock, but when the Vicomte came into the picture it was evident I had to move fast to claim her. I was desperate at the thought of losing her, and I knew that she would never be happy with him. A talent as great as hers was mine to mold and see triumph above all others.

So one night I spirited her away, to show her the life I could give her. A life rich in passion, mystery, music and love, but she was too curious and… removed my mask." Erik had to stop as the shock and pain of that moment exploded within him again and he tried to calm himself.

"She screamed and recoiled at what she saw, and in my anger I lashed out at her. I tried to apologize, humbled myself at the hem of her skirt begging forgiveness, but the fear and horror were already stamped on her face. After that she went running to the Vicomte, and with them tried to capture me."

"Can you really blame her for denying you? You'd taken life in her name. I'm sure she felt the blood of those men was on her hands just as much as on yours."

"But I never would have hurt her."

"The character of the man is more important than what they look like. All she knew of you was your passion for music and proclivity for violence. It would frighten anyone; especially a girl only recently blossomed into womanhood whose only experiences of this world were of the opera house. I… can't blame her."

"So I'm unworthy of being loved, is that what you're saying." He said angrily.

"No, only that when love is born it is as delicate as any mewling infant and must be dealt with delicately. It can't survive long under the weight of guilt or regret. You were... well, overzealous putting it mildly."

"I didn't know any other way to be, or to show her how i felt. I gave myself through the music, and i felt through the music. And those men, the loathsome fly man Buquet who'd recently taken to assaulting the ballerina's deserved worse than being strangled. Piangi was no better than a lap dog of La Carlotta." He exhaled a deep sigh; an invisible weight seemed to hang on his shoulders.

"But I hadn't meant to kill him, only knock him unconscious. He turned around and saw me approaching. We struggled until I managed to twist some rope around his bloated throat." They were quiet for several minutes before Lisa spoke.

"Have you hurt anyone else since then?" She asked fearful of his answer.

"No, though I admit to having had the passing thought at times. That violence has cost me so much, I could never fathom committing such atrocities again. I have striven to leave the phantom behind. But don't be deceived, I am a monster and a murderer of the highest degree."

"I don't see a monster. Most villains don't seek redemption." She said, trying not to let the gravity of this topic draw her down into despair.

"Redemption, where do you get that idea?" he inquired.

"Phantasma, from what Gustave says you're probably the fairest and most caring employer in the tristate area. You've rescued people like Squelch, Gangle and Ms. Fleck, and given them the kind of life they'd never hoped for because of their differences." For perhaps the third time in his life the phantom of the opera blushed although she could not see it. He'd never considered that he did what he did out of compassion.

"I could never force the suffering I've endured on another man, woman, or beast." He mumbled quietly and they fell once again into a long silence.

"Have you ever told anyone else any of this, the other women in your life?" she asked coyly. Erik gave a short grunt before answering.

"There's been no one since Christine, and there was no one before her either. What kind of woman would want a beast in her bed?" He trailed off, and stood staring out into the silent darkness of the garden as if it were the empty void of his life. Lisa stood and took the few final steps that separated them.

"One who can see the beauty underneath." She whispered. Erik's pulse skipped a beat at her choice of words. The draw of her presence compelled him to turn away from the blackness and look at her.

"What are you saying?" He asked.

"Erik, I can never begin to know the kind of suffering you've endured for your entire life with nothing but abuse from all of human kind. But I do understand hate and anger, and how those feelings can twist a soul. It takes someone with a strong spirit and stronger heart to survive that kind of evil. That you've come as far as you have is a testament to that strength of character. Through it all you managed to live and love." She looked deep into his eyes, past the mask, the pain and the monster.

"I can't give you absolution, nor do I excuse the sins you've committed and I can't undo the past. I can only look to today and my hope for the future." Lisa could not say there was wisdom or good judgment in what she had said, but she was sure about what she felt. Had it not been for the inexplicable need inside to surrender she would have been running in the other direction.

Lisa's eyes glinted with that inner fire that he always found hypnotizing. Somehow she'd gained the trust of a man who'd never trusted anyone, not even the love of his life. Now here they stood, nose to nose and on the verge of a fantasy becoming reality.

Tentatively, Erik moved the half step that brought him as close to Lisa as he could get without holding her. Their breath mingled making both shiver at the small connection. It wasn't by any conscious thought that made Erik bow his head forward to meet the lips that tilted up to him. It was as simple as any instinct that necessitates action. When Lisa's hands floated up to grip the lapels of his vest and hold him to her, his arms instinctively moved to wrap around her frame.

At first Lisa trembled like a leaf holding too much water after a rain storm, but as her body melded and conformed to Erik's they both began to sway on the spot. It was the same dizzying sensation of a passionate daydream. Oh so slowly they felt the texture of each other's lips until Lisa's mouth opened like a flower spreading its petals. Erik dipped his tongue between those petals to taste the nectar of her tongue.

As if they were seeking a familiar path, Lisa's open palmed hands snaked their way up the expanse of Erik's chest to his neck where they relished the feel of the barest piece of skin his collar didn't hide. Lisa could feel goose pimples blossom from her skin at the unfamiliar sensation of their interlude.

At first Erik's body was as tense as steel, but as the sweet scent of Lisa's lilac perfume filled his nostrils and enveloped him his muscles became like molten rock, heated, pulsing and tumultuous as his limbs encased her against him. His arms shaped themselves around her while his legs became a cradle for her body to fill. His fingers stopped being rigid and flexed to be filled by her supple flesh, curving first around the dip of her waist, traveling to the flare of each hip and then meeting at the small of her back.

Erik wanted to keep going, to test the waters of this unsure sea. He wanted to ask, even beg, to swim in the ocean of her sex, to feel it cleanse and baptize his tainted soul. But how could this woman who knew his true ugliness, possibly desire to accept him or even dare love him. A kiss was one thing, it could be friendly or meant to comfort, just a bandage on a broken heart, but not a promise of more intimate connections.

Erik was so drunk on Lisa's kiss and his resulting musings, that when Lisa's hand palmed his mask he didn't react. But when the cool night air tickled his marred flesh it was as effective as a crash of lightning to awaken him back to reality. He reflexively grabbed her wrist roughly, broke the kiss and yanked her back several feet from him. Lisa couldn't grasp what had happened and looked back at him with startled and confused eyes.

"You're just like the rest of them aren't you, looking for a show from the freak." He hissed at her.

"What the hell are you talking about?" she stammered.

"You were about to take off my mask. You have no right and damn well don't have my permission." Erik's anger had sparked from the hurt dejection he'd experienced so often when people recoiled from him. It took Lisa a moment to comprehend what the problem was.

"No, I just wanted to touch and kiss you there. I didn't think. I'm sorry." She stuttered "I only wanted to feel you." Although she knew she hadn't done anything wrong Lisa felt guilty for having overstepped boundaries that weren't ready to be breached.

Lisa's pleading eyes warred with Erik's pained ones. She could see he was thinking through what had just happened and what she'd said, but Erik's grip on her wrist was starting to get painful and she was starting to feel panic build in her gut.

Erik's grip relaxed on Lisa's wrist, but he didn't release her. Instead he pulled her slowly back to him. Watching the look on her face closely he brought her fingers to the bottom edge of his mask. She didn't dare move as her digits touched the skin there, feeling the slightly rough stubble first.

Erik pushed her fingers under the edge of the porcelain and guided them across the contorted flesh of his disfigurement. In his entire lifetime only one other person had dared touch his face and that had been only under duress or in a blind moment of passion.

Lisa wasn't just touching the rawness of Erik's mutilated face; she was feeling the beast within and risking its unrelenting fury. She wanted to cup her palm over his cheek, to rub her own cheek against it and kiss every inch her touch revealed, but she knew this was a trial for Erik. She needed to give full control of this moment to him.

Just as unexpectedly as it had started, it was over. Erik tugged her hand free from the warm confine under his mask and released her wrist, but their eyes still held each other in a powerful clutch. For a moment her arm hung limply in the air before settling on his heaving chest. Lisa could feel the thudding of the heart against his sternum, beating harder now than while they'd kissed.

"I'm willing to try Erik, if you are." Lisa's voice was barely a whisper. He only nodded in response. Feeling somehow spent, Lisa rested her head against his shoulder and inhaled deeply. Erik leaned forward and buried his masked face into her neck, as he wrapped Lisa in a tight hug. They stayed like that for a long time, though neither of them measured anything but the steady rhythm of the other's pulse like a lullaby.

The spell was broken when the lilting notes of a blue jays song flitted from the garden. When Lisa looked up the grey twilight of early morning shone beyond the window. When she looked at the man who held her, his eyes were closed and the shimmery trail of tears glinted in the half-light.

Lisa kissed the salty liquid from his cheek and he lifted his lids to look at her. He held her gently, like a bouquet of flowers. Her sweetness filled all his senses.

Lisa's skin burned where his palms cradled her. She felt the heated blood rushing to awaken flesh that had grown cold over the years. It felt like there was no past, no future, just the present filled with the joy of this moment. By the time they separated a cacophony of birds seemed to be warbling outside the window.

"I should be getting home. Gustave will worry if I'm not there." He said.

"Yes. He's still recovering and needs you there. Kara and Mama will be awake soon too."

Several more minutes passed before the two of them could extricate themselves from the others embrace, but finally Erik was escorted to the front gate and made his way home.

The sun had only just broken the horizon when he entered the door of his Long Island home. He went straight to check on Gustave and was surprised to see him still sleeping soundly. Before his accident, his son normally went to bed late and rose early everyday like his father, but since that fateful night 2 weeks ago he'd taken to a more normal schedule.

As Erik closed the door and went to his own quarters, he wondered how it had been for the boy when Christine was alive and if the presence of Lisa in their lives had affected those habits. He opened the door to his room and for a split second was startled by its darkness. Yes, things were definitely different for both of them now.


	27. Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27

It was the same dream again. He'd known it would come from the moment consciousness made way for the intangible world. There he was, singing to Christine with all the passion and earnest he could convey; compelling her into his realm of night by the words and whisper of his music, the ineffable music of the night. And it was working. He could see it in the entranced way she saw only him, unblinking and unaware of the reality around her.

Every inflection of his voice and gesture of his hand drew her deeper into the darkness. The thrill made him feel drunk, swollen with the power he held over her very soul. He could almost imagine that he held her essence in his cold palm, hot and fluttering against the stroking night air. He had the feeling again that he could crush it, or make it raise and sour with the strength of his will.

But then it all changed. Her face, that had been so filled with wonder now stood transfixed and distorted in a horrific scream made all the more gruesome by the lack of sound. In a silence that stretched across the desert of his life, she turned and fled from him. He reached out to stop her, but his hands were too wet with blood to gain a grip. His skin was bleeding, but not from any injury. The sticky thickening slime emerged from his pours like sweat and stained his clothes.

He fell to the ground as the weight of all that blood multiplied and pushed until he lay down prostrate on the ground. All of a sudden the backdrop of his lair dissipated, there were feet all around him, but the increasing heaviness of the blood that had even begun to pour from his brow would not allow him to look up or move. Before he could panic it had pooled closely around him and he'd started to drown. The hot fire of the blood flooded into his mouth and nostrils as he disappeared under its rising waves.

Erik opened his eyes to see the familiar black of his bedroom. Though the illusion had become familiar, he felt more rattled by it than ever before. He hadn't dreamed like that in weeks, not since before Gustave's accident. There was a time when it would visit him several times a week. Perhaps it was his concern for the boy that had kept it at bay, but Erik knew better than to believe that.

It was still dark out and the house laid still and quiet. They'd been back in their home for nearly a week now, but the once familiar rooms continued to feel alien and empty. It always felt like he was waiting for something, or something. Like the sound of a particular voice, or a smell that you didn't usually notice when it was constantly there, but when it was gone the air was left lacking.

Even Gustave had mentioned it, as much as he mentioned missing the mansion, the old woman, the nosey maid, and her. He didn't want to think about her, picture her face or remember her kindness and touch. If he did a deep longing would pull at his insides, like a hunger that could never be satisfied. It was both pleasure and pain.

Since he'd left the mansion Erik had talked to himself about what it was he was doing. It had only taken two weeks, and here he was more than infatuated with a woman who'd forced her way into their lives. How had she done it and why had he succumb? Could he really dare risking the same pain he'd experienced from Christine's denial, love, then death? No, he wouldn't be able to survive it. It would be best for all of them if he forgot it ever happened, but that was a difficult endeavor with Gustave's ever present reminders.

3 days after their return home, Dr. Gilles had made one last visit to his young patient. He was as genial as ever with Gustave, and seemed glad to announce him fully recovered though he still recommended against allowing him to roam the city for a time. From that moment on the child had started making plans for them to not only call on Madam Aguilar, but to invite the entire trio to their residence and take them for a tour of Phantasma.

Erik had been able for the time being to defer the boy's requests to arrange such excursions, saying he was too busy. It was partly true. Many things were put on hold while Mr. Y had been waylaid in the city tending to his son. In the park preparations were being made for a special fall festival that would signal the end of the season for amusement park.

Some of his employees had gone lax during his absence and he quickly had to rein them in. Even Madam Giry seemed less focused and more apt to allowing her company of dancers to give subpar performances. She was also being borderline insubordinate, but Erik didn't have the time or inkling to address whatever grievance was causing her ill conduct.

The Monster Ball was a complicated production and the dancers were only a part of his vision. Only a month remained and the music needing fine tuning as well as the stage direction, so Mr. Y remained thankfully distracted.

Lisa had her own fires to put out. For the 2 days after she'd last seen Erik, she walked around on a cloud. Had she suspected what was coming, she might have been more conscientious about her behavior. In the wake of the party Mama Aguilar had come down with a hacking cough. Dr. Gilles had come and prescribed her with several tonics as well as speaking animatedly with Kara about special diet and her special remedies.

Lisa was too concerned for her mother to focus on Erik and Gustave for any length of time, but neither was far from her thoughts. She relived their moment in the sitting room several times a day until it seemed more like a daydream than an actual event.

Gloria Aguilar hadn't failed to notice, even with her illness. After nearly a week of watching Lisa gaze off into the distance lost in thought, the matron felt it about time that her daughter spilled the beans.

"I think I recognize that look." remarked the old woman one morning.

"What are you talking about?" asked Lisa, feeling a little embarrassed at being caught with a far off expression.

"I'm talking about whatever you and Mr. Destler talked about in the sitting room at 4 in the morning the other day and why it's making you dither and thither like a debutant. Now don't look at me that way, just because I'm old doesn't mean I'm deaf. I sleep only two doors down, my darling." Mama Aguilar enjoyed the small feeling of accomplishment her daughter's flushed face gave her.

"Um… we just talked." Lisa tried.

"Mi Amor, I'm no fool. A man like that doesn't come around in the middle of the night to chat." implied the old woman. Lisa felt pleasantly defeated and allowed the smile she'd been hiding to spread wide on her face.

"We did talk, and maybe just a little more than that. But nothing that went too far." she admitted reluctantly.

"I know. Remember I lived in the same house with you and Charles, I know what it sounds like when things go too far." She said. Lisa gasped loudly at the comment, but Gloria merely chuckled at her embarrassment. "Besides, I think it's time things went too far. It would be good for both of you to test the waters, especially with what happened." She finished quietly.

"Please don't bring that up Mama, I don't need to be reminded."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I just don't want you to let some silly sense of propriety to stop you from doing what feels right for you." Gloria felt such a load of pain for her daughter's sake. She always knew that something like this would be harder for her than other women. "Have you told him?"

"There's nothing worth telling. It's not like it matters anymore." Lisa finished sadly. Gloria only nodded as she fought the need to cough violently. After the woman had settled down for an afternoon nap, Lisa carried a used food tray to the kitchen where Kara was holed up going over new recipes. She'd been presented with so many options for the party that there was no way she could have tried everything she'd wanted to. Now that she had the time she was eager to experiment.

As Lisa entered the kitchen Kara watched her carefully. She had also noticed the dreamy way her friend had been acting since the recital. Kara had hoped that when Gustave and his father had left, the problem would have solved itself, but it was obvious the worst had happened. It was now or never if she were to save her adopted sister from more pain, heartache, and god only knows what else.

"How's Mama doing?" she asked.

"Much better, we talked for a while and she barely coughed. She finished the broth and her tea. I think she's definitely on the mend." Lisa commented wistfully.

"Good, what did Gilles say?"

"The same, she's looking better every day." Lisa replied.

"I heard him say something else to you, what was it about?"

"Oh, he told he'd been to see Gustave and that he's doing just fine too. He doesn't want him running about the city to be visiting us yet, but very soon it'll be like nothing happened." Lisa said.

"I don't think that will be possible." commented Kara.

"What do you mean?" Lisa asked, curious at Kara's serious tone.

"I need to speak with you about a very serious matter. It's about the father… and the kind of man he is." She said. Lisa breath caught at the statement. She stopped washing the dishes and turned slowly towards Kara, whose serious expression made guilt twist in her stomach. She saw now that Kara held something out to her, a small stack of what looked like newspaper.

Carefully she accepted the documents and opened them. The first was an old faded periodical from France, and she immediately recognized the headline. The second was a slightly newer copy of the NY times dated 3 years ago. Lisa recognized this one as well. She folded the papers back and looked up to Kara.

"Well?" asked the older woman.

"Well what, neither of these articles tells me anything I don't already know." Lisa had very rarely if ever seen Kara lose her composure, so it was in a strange way entertaining to see how her jaw very nearly hit the floor.

"How long have you known" She asked with a strained whisper.

"Long enough and it doesn't matter. He's not that man anymore." Lisa said, hoping more than believing her own words.

"No longer a murderer, kidnapper and con-artist; and who are you to make that judgment? Who are you put me and your mother in danger by letting this thing into our home, into our lives?" Kara's voice was steadily rising, but Lisa remained calm and controlled as she watched her friend take in this information.

"I don't expect you to understand or agree with my decision to keep his secret, but I wouldn't have if I'd believed for a moment he was a threat. He's never…" Lisa tried, but Kara cut her off as her temper got the better of her.

"He's never been trustworthy. Don't you remember he broke into this house and threatened us? Isn't that in character with the Opera Ghost? But I think I see what's happened here. You're just too hot to see reason. That monster has somehow managed to seduce you like he did Miss Daae." Kara accused.

"How dare you, of all people, accuse me of choosing a man over my family? I'm not a child or an idiot. And I don't need you to trust me either." Lisa was finished with this conversation and moved to leave the room.

"Well maybe you need to know a little tidbit of information Madam Giry gave me. According to her, Miss Daae didn't conceive Gustave willingly. She said he forced himself on her and then abandoned her to marry the Vicomte. Then he forced Giry's daughter to whore herself so that he could build his empire. When he was done with her he tossed her aside, and she went mad. That's why she was out there with a gun, to kill herself and the boy, but when your freak lover tried to take the gun it went off and killed Miss Daae." Kara knew it wasn't exactly what Madam Giry had said, but it had been clearly alluded to in their conversation.

Lisa went cold, both inside and out. She wanted to UN-hear what had been said or just ignore it, but it impacted the very place inside of her that Kara had been aiming for. Lisa turned back around to face Erik's accuser.

"Are you certain about this?" she asked. Kara hesitated only a moment before nodding, but it was enough to give Lisa the fighting chance she needed so badly at that moment. Without another word she flew from the kitchen and raced to her room to dress.

Kara remained in the kitchen, feeling strangely rueful. She knew she'd done the right thing, but she also felt like she'd betrayed her friend and caused more pain than the other woman needed. She wanted to speak with Mama Aguilar, who'd been like a mother to her over all the long years. But alerting the old woman with these evils would certainly further endanger her health. No, Kara would have to deal with what came now on her own.


	28. Chapter 28

CHAPTER 28

Lisa reached her room and changed quickly, choosing a light blouse and skirt with a simple coat. In less than an hour she was out on the street waiting for the hansom she'd called for. Kara had not been around to see her sneaking out of the mansion, not that she would have been able to stop her.

A moment later the vehicle pulled up and Lisa jumped in without waiting for the driver's help. When he asked for the destination, she didn't have to think about it.

"The Coney-Island ferry please. Do you know when the next launch leaves?" she inquired.

"Yeah, should be in about 20 minutes. I'll get you there in time Missus." And with that they were off. It had been a long time since Lisa had left her sanctuary to go any farther than midtown to the lawyer's office. So now she was seeing a world that had become wholly foreign. Under normal circumstances she might feel intimidated or intrigued, but her mind could not let go of her purpose.

In no time she was on the ferry heading to the lonely island. The waters were calm and the early afternoon light shimmered beautifully over the boats wake. The atmosphere helped to relax Lisa's nerves a bit, though it could not alleviate her angst.

At the dock several carriages waited to take those who could afford it to the various amusement parks, like Luna and Phantasma, but there was a substantially larger crowd heading to the latter. Lisa hired one of the taxis, offering the remaining seats to a small middle class family with a small and wiry child that was already over excited by the days outing.

She chatted amiably with the young mother as they made their way till they parted at the park entrance. Lisa paid her ticket and entered the gates along with the throng. She was immediately taken aback by the enormity of the place. It was alive with a roaring coaster, and a Ferris wheel that reached up to the heavens. Another ride took patrons high into the air on suspended seats and swung them in a wide circle. At every turn there was some amazing contraption making the park goers squeal, gasp or scream.

There were games of chance or skill being announced by rows and rows of carnies. Lisa passed through sections of the park like they were districts of the city. Very quickly she felt like she'd been a fool in coming here, for thinking that he was better, for daring to care, and then she felt a tingle in the back of her mind like someone was watching her.

Erik had been touring the attractions for most of the day to make sure that everything was running smoothly. He moved from place to place through a series of back alley passages or underground hallways that had been built under the floor boards of the board walk. There was no way he was going to move among the multitudes of people outside and withstand their gawking, pointing or comments.

But there were ways he enjoyed interacting with the public. The hall of mirrors he'd designed was homage to the work he'd done in earlier years. Unlike other fun houses, his had rotating panels and hidden illusions. He liked teasing the confused and frustrated people stuck in the constantly changing labyrinth. That's when he saw her passing by the front entrance of the building, looking in through the first set of clear glass partitions.

The moment he recognized her it felt like he'd discovered a rare gem in bedrock of hard earth. Without thinking he immediately gave chase. There were many gasps as he passed people, making his way effortlessly through the corridors, his white mask a blur as he disappeared into what seemed nothing. It took only a moment and he was outside under the full light of day and standing among patrons, looking around wildly.

A moment of panic set in when he thought he'd lost her, but something pulled his attention down the track. A lone figure stood still among the passersby. He knew, before she began to turn around it was she, but when her face came into view it was like he'd seen the sun burst onto the horizon.

In a moment they were face to face, standing only a foot apart. No words were spoken; Erik just reached out and took her hand. Lisa didn't resist as he began to lead her away from the rabble of people. She saw only him, noting only how lithe his movements were, how tall he seemed and how warmly the long fingers of his hand curved around her own paw.

Suddenly they were someplace free of any other company and dark compared to the sundrenched walkway of the thoroughfare.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, having leaned down so close to her face she'd thought he was going to kiss her. At first Lisa felt deflated, than angry with herself for being so easily led.

"I need to speak with you." She responded, sounding more composed than she felt.

"Really, about what?" he was coming closer, so slowly it was barely perceptible.

"About Christine and Meg Giry." she said. It was like dropping an iron portcullis between them, making Erik step back. He'd always known there would be more to say, but he'd hoped there would have been more time, if ever. Until this moment he'd almost convinced himself that knowing Lisa had only been some kind of fantasy, like the fairies dancing in the artificial breeze of her studio. Now he was right back where he'd been a week before, aching, needing and wanting.

"Why, what else needs to be said that hasn't already been?" he asked her coldly.

"I've had the chance to think about things more clearly. I was quick to trust all that you told me because of my affection for Gustave, but I've been reminded… of certain things. I need to know more about how things happened and why?" she asked.

"Reminded by whom?" Erik's mind immediately starting working on the question, but it didn't take him long to fall upon an answer. There was only one person that knew enough about anything to make this type of trouble.

"That's not important Erik. Please, if you feel anything for me, tell me." Lisa's voice was borderline pleading.

The man took another step back, and she had the feeling he might flee at any moment, but he stopped. His eyes had started searching the empty air around them, as if he was seeing things that Lisa could not. After a few seconds his gaze met hers again. The look on his face wasn't hard, it was resigned.

"What happened between you and Christine in Paris? You told me she rejected you, but then how did she get pregnant with Gustave." She asked. It took a long time for him to put together what he would say, if he could say anything at all.

"She'd promised herself to the Vicomte. I was angry, so angry I was ready to take my revenge on them all. I took her away, as was going to make her mine whether she chose it or not." He said. Lisa held her breath. This was not what she had hoped to hear.

"But I was further betrayed, and the Vicomte followed us. I trapped him in my underground lair and I was going to make her watch while I killed him. But then I came up with the idea to give her a choice. She could either give herself to me willingly or condemn her lover to death. I was manic, desperate and crazed." He paused for so long, Lisa was afraid he wasn't going to continue. She wanted to reach out to him, but if she couldn't.

"His life was slipping away while we argued. The spell had been broken you see, and she saw me as nothing but a monster. The angel was dead. But then she did the one thing I didn't really expect. She kissed me. Never in all my years had I ever been touched that way. Then she kissed me again. The way she looked into my eyes, held my naked face in her hands; she wasn't afraid of me anymore, but she was afraid for me. So I did the only thing I could have." He trailed off again, reliving those excruciating moments.

"What did you do Erik?" Lisa was looking deep into his eyes, trying to bring him back from the barrage of memories swarming him.

"I let them go." He said it as if it were bile on his lips. "I watched them disappear into the night. I kept my eyes on her even after she was gone. Then I heard the yells of the mob coming to get me, so I fled down a secret path and hid myself in an abandoned house in a derelict part of the city.

No one dared to enter because it was believed to be haunted. I stared their several weeks, waiting for the hunt to be lessened or abandoned. Only two people knew of my ware bouts, but somehow Christine found me." He said, turning away from her. He placed his hand against the stone wall that separated them from the crowds and leaned on it for support.

"She came to you?" Lisa asked. Erik scoffed at her tone.

"Yes. I saw her coming up the empty lane, hooded and cloaked. So I put out all the lights so as to not give myself away, but as soon as she entered she sensed my presence. I wasn't angry anymore, but I was more broken then I had ever been. She told me that she was sorry, that she'd been miserable without me, without my music.

In the dark of that moonless night, she reached out and touched me, held me, kissed me. I tried to push her away, but she would not release me. I wanted to be free of the pain, of her lies and betrayal as well as the horror of what I was. But she would not let me go, and we… " a violent shudder passed through him.

"Just before dawn broke I awoke, it was so cold. I looked at her and I thought of what the future would hold from that moment on. I thought I'd known how our story would end, but the truth was my love could only condemn her. All that I had done and all that I was would become her burden too. So I whispered a declaration of my undying love and left her there." Stillness descended on them for a long time, like a thick fog.

"So you ran away, and came here." Lisa stated, drawing Erik back to the moment.

"Yes. I went to Giry and she helped me leave France forever. I brought with me the modest fortune I'd accumulated along with the ballet mistress and her daughter. Once here I immediately set about establishing my little empire. Madam Giry, Antoinette, and Meg helped me, but I was more focused to what I was doing and trying to forget the past that I didn't see what was happening before me.

Miss Giry had been giving her favors to my potential investors and some members of the press in exchange for their endorsement. She did it to help me and because she had come to… care for me. All she ever wanted was for me to notice her, but I never saw her as more than a means to an end."

"Was there ever anything between you too?" Lisa asked.

"No, I never wanted her. My heart was always with Christine, even with an ocean and a decade between us. I couldn't let her go and without her my suffering was an unyielding torment, so I brought her too me. I was so confident in my position that I didn't consider anything more than my own wants."

"So you lured her back to you."

"Yes, and she rebuffed me for abandoning her, letting her believe me dead after having given herself. She refused to sing for me, so I did what I always did. I threatened to take from her what she loved most." He stated. Lisa gasped, knowing exactly what that was. He'd threatened to do harm to Gustave. Erik turned when he heard Lisa's reaction and walked carefully towards her. She moved back, just half a step, but it was enough to stop his advance.

"Please believe me it was an empty threat. As soon as I listened to him play the piano I realized that I he was mine, and when Christine confirmed my suspicion I was immediately changed. In that moment the phantom was gone, and I was made a man; a living man." He turned away again, unable to face the depth of that guilt.

"I pledged myself to giving my child everything I had, even though I was unworthy of him. I made Christine promise never to tell him, but he would be my reason for living; for him and for Christine. It might have all worked out, but I wasn't the only one to have guessed the truth.

Madam Giry saw it too, and she told Meg. They believed that I would abandon them, replace them for Christine and my son. Maybe they were right. It drove Meg mad and she stole Gustave on the very night that Christine decided to stay with me. So she took the boy, planning on drowning him

We chased Meg to the pier, and to convince her to release Gustave. But then she pulled out a gun and turned it on herself. I don't know what compelled me, but I tried to reason with her. I couldn't let her take her own life for my sake. She was about to releasing the pistol to me, but then I made the mistake of mentioning Christine and she struggled against my grip. The gun fired, but it went past me and found my angel." Erik's voice broke, and his head fell as the sound of that shot echoed in his mind once again.

Quietly he sobbed, forgetting everything around him, even his audience. The one responsible for making him go back to those moments. Lisa stepped forward and placed her hand on his back. When Erik turned to look at her it was like he was seeing her for the first time. It pulled at something deep inside her, a place where her own pain and horror dwelled.

"Tell me." She whispered.

"I held her. With her dying breath she revealed me to Gustave and he ran off. I tried to comfort her. She asked me to kiss her, one last time. And I did, and I taste her last breath." It was a moment like none he'd ever experienced in his life when Lisa moved forward to embrace him. He didn't know how to move or what to feel.

It was only when she moved to step away that Erik was able to act. He caught her before she could break the contact and held her tightly in his arms, crushed against his chest, like a child holding on to its doll for comfort.

"I'm sorry." She said into the fabric of his coat. It was she who had forced the retelling of his most traumatic moments. Though Lisa had needed to know for her own sake, she could only regret the agony it had caused him.

The sound of the outside world started to leak into the bubble that had formed around them, and soon it seemed like a din of noise was crushing in. Vendors were making their last call to customers for games, shows and rides. The sun hung low on the horizon and a shroud was falling on the park.

"Come, I need to take you home." He said, releasing Lisa. He took her hand again and led her away. They wound their way through the park's back alleys until emerging onto a gravel road that was only a few hundred feet from the dock.

They didn't board the passenger boat with the rest of the crowd. Instead he led her onto a small vessel that seemed to be left waiting for him. An old man welcomed them aboard. He was wizened with a long unruly white beard that was so bushy it nearly disguised his entire form But as she boarded the boat Lisa saw that the sleeve of his left arm had been rolled up revealing a stump from which two stunted and oddly shaped fingers protruded.

She'd seen men like this before, so it didn't shock her. She accepted his welcome and he took the helm, guiding the small steam powered vessel though the channel to the opposite shore. No one spoke, but Erik watched Lisa intently as they journeyed.

At the dock Lisa was led to a carriage that was also waiting. It didn't take long before they were pulling up to the mansion. Erik played the gentleman as he led her down from the carriage and walked her to the door. Lisa stopped at the threshold. She knew that Kara was probably just on the other side, waiting to scold and further accuse. She turned once last time to Erik, not knowing what either of them could say.

"In a week, Phantasma will be holding a special concert for All Hallows Eve. Will you come?" he asked. Lisa nodded without thinking, avoiding his persistent stare. Slowly he approached her, and without further hesitation on either end he brought his lips to meet hers. The kiss was sweet and tentative. It wasn't the heated and passionate interlude they'd had before, but it was nearly as intense.

"Goodnight." And he was gone, like a smoke on the wind.


	29. Chapter 29

CHAPTER 29

Phantasma had been built on the bones of an earlier development for a smaller amusement park, now its grandeur rivaled that of the other two parks on the island. It was considered the best of all the attractions Coney had to offer, and its owner's genius for entertaining patrons with sights, sounds, and mystery was the reason.

Erik took pride in all he'd created and made sure that even the smallest effort resulted in unmitigated success, but there was never a small effort on his part. Even though he had less of himself to give in invention and innovation these days, he made sure that what existed was still at its best.

He'd started the tradition of offering special shows and events for certain holidays, and none were as special as all Hallows eve. On that night, the entire park came to life with a special type of decadence and the center of it all was the monsters ball. Anything was allowed, guests came masked and costumed to mingle, dance and watch the freaks put on a show.

This would be the fifth year of the celebration. If Lisa did attend, he wanted to be the only one to unmask her. But as the sun set and the festivities began, he stood staring at the portrait of Christine that hung in his room over the small alter he'd erected.

His eyes inventoried the collection of valuables he kept in her memory. The veil she'd left behind in his lair that Meg had retrieved for him. The ring that had been meant to be their wedding ring, the necklace and earrings she'd worn for her last performance.

Over the years he'd come to this portrait for solace. His beloveds eyes always gave him the sympathy and love he'd needed to make it through another day. Tonight, they seemed distant. As much as he begged for some leave from them he could ascertain nothing from their unblinking stare.

How could he even consider the embrace of another after having known the rapturous love of his Christine? No one could ever fill the part of his heart that was forever hers, but could there be enough of a heart left to beat anew? Would he be betraying her love? A part of him felt that even in death a love such as theirs demanded unending faithfulness?

 _Love never dies._ Like an echo he heard the words she'd sung, his words that he'd written for her. But the message in the lyrics seemed to have evolved. Once they had spoken of his love for Christine, then they were the love of father and son, now they touched a raw part of him that trembled like a new born babe.

Erik paced before the portrait, glancing at it periodically. His mind felt jumbled with a cavalcade of thoughts. He could never love another the way he'd loved her. Erik's heart hammered against his ribs threateningly, and he reflexively grasped his hand to his chest as if needing to keep it from escaping. How could he banish that traitorous organ once and for all from his being?

"Oh Christine, what am I to do?" he begged.

 _Just love, just live. Just give what you can give, and take the love that you deserve._ Her voice seemed to emanate from the harsh beat of his heart with those last words she'd spoken to him. Whatever it was he felt for Lisa, it didn't abate his love for Christine, it actually brought it into sharp relief.

He moved to stand as close to the picture as he could and glared into the soft portrayal of her face. It seemed to come alive and the face looking back at him shone with affection and love as her voice filled his head.

 _Who knows when love begins,  
Who knows what makes it start  
One day it's simply there  
Alive inside your heart_

 _It slips into your thoughts  
It infiltrates your soul  
It takes you by surprise  
Then seizes full control_

 _Try to deny it,_

 _And try to protest,  
But love won't let you go  
Once you've been possessed_

 _Love never dies  
Love never falters,  
Once it has spoken  
Love is yours_

 _Love never fades  
Love never alters_

 _Love lives on_

They were his own words and Christine had brought them to life for him. Tears began to pool under his mask and slip from his eyes. Had it not been for his angel he'd never known the truth of what love is and been able to write the lyrics that had moved her soul and inspired her voice that night. And how did he honor that love in his life now?


	30. Chapter 30

CHAPTER 30

Kara had talked herself horse. When Lisa had disappeared from the house there was no questioning where she'd gone. When she'd returned with the villain in tow, it had nearly sent Kara into hysterics. She hadn't stopped from that moment for the next 3 days. Finally worn out, Kara did the only thing she had left to do.

Mrs. Aguilar's health was much improved, in fact she felt better than she'd felt in years. There seemed to be music in her ears and a joie de vivre that filled her every moment. Kara was hesitant about being the one to puncture the old woman's happiness, but for the sake of the friend she loved she was prepared for any consequences.

"I must speak with you Gloria." She said after having delivered the matrons mid-day meal to the sitting room.

"Of course, you've been moping around this place for days and barely talking to Lisa. What's bothering you?" she asked, sounding concerned.

"Has she said anything to you about… that man?" Kara inquired conscientiously. Gloria understood there was only one person to fit that comment, and the idea made her grin.

"She's told me enough, but you know Lisa. She likes to speak in riddles and prose." She said, waving it off like wisp of smoke.

"There may be a different reason why she hasn't said more." She began. Not allowing herself to stop Kara dove right in and relayed all she knew and everything she supposed to the old woman. Mrs. Aguilar listened fixedly, not interrupting the other woman's monologue.

Once Kara was done, she sat silently waiting for what she was sure would be an out pour of outrage. Gloria Aguilar often had a flare for the dramatic, and Kara was sure this would stir her hot Spanish blood. The old woman simply gazed back at her with a dull expression, but after a moment the ends of her mouth curved slightly into what could only be called a devilish grin.

Gloria shifted her gaze suddenly to the doorway of the sitting room, and Kara spun around to see Lisa standing in the doorway. Even though she was still confident in her stance, Kara felt contrite by the look of betrayal on her friends face. Had there been any other way she would have gladly followed it. The stalemate was broken when Mama Aguilar cleared her throat. She gestured for Lisa to enter and take a seat at table with them.

"You both must think I'm stupid or senile." She said. The other two look at each other with confused expressions. "Of course I've known from the moment I saw that man who he was. Maybe your memories may be faulty, but not mine. I know you were mostly comatose to the world at the time Mija, but Kara, how could you have forgotten. I was there." She said in a spirited voice. It took a moment, but when Kara realized what she was saying she leapt from her seat and gasped.

"I heard the Phantom's voice and saw his face the night the chandelier fell on the Opera Populaire. Not only did I see the dangling corpse of Buquet, but I saw Piangi strung up on the stage. I was in the second row and narrowly missed being killed. Salena's husband was quick enough to get us out a side entrance from the stage. It was all very exciting and tragically romantic." She finished by sipping her tea. Lisa remained sitting, because her legs probably wouldn't have supported her.

"How… how is it I don't remember this?" she asked.

"You were still so caught up in Charles and Armando's death, I told the others not to worry you. But you Kara, I'm astonished." said the old woman. Kara slowly lowered herself back into her chair as a steady stream of tears had begun to roll down her down her cheeks.

"I… I don't know. I remember it so clearly now. The three of you returned from the event so shaken and disheveled. I was half asleep, but I did what I could to calm you all down and you told me some of what had happened." She stammered.

"Yes, and I recall you saying that maybe it had all be part of the show, but when the morning paper came with all gruesome details you ate it up like good book."

"But if you knew, how could you have let such a dangerous man stay in your house, and even seduce your daughter?" Kara asked, unable to fathom what this all meant. Lisa looked at her friend with a stunned expression. Had she really been seduced, like Christine?

"It was all so long ago. Men in love often go too far in their pursuit, especially when there is competition. Besides, Christine is gone, the opera is gone, there's nothing we can do to resurrect them and he is a well-respected business man raising the child of his beloved." She said coolly, as if it was all common sense, but Kara's outrage was quickly escalating.

"That's just not good enough. What if he had…" Kara started, but in a change as quick as a flash of lighting Mrs. Aguilar turned on her with fierce eyes.

"Now you listen to me. I've lived on this earth much longer than either of you and I know what real danger is, don't presume to think that you know more than I or that I've forgotten the horrors of what we all endured. Whatever he may have done in the past has nothing to do with us and he was never any danger to us either, even after you too nearly blew his head off with those damned pistols." She revealed.

Would the revelations never end? Lisa was unsure she could handle much more and Kara felt near to fainting.

"I live here too, and in the quiet of the night I can here nearly everything that goes on in this house. Now, let me tell you how things are going to happen from now on. Kara, you will stop trying to play the hero or voice of reason and let things go according to the good lord's design. And Lisa, you will stop second guessing every little thought in your head and feeling in your heart and choose the path that calls to you." She said.

"But Madam Giry…" Kara tried.

"Don't talk to me about Giry, if that woman is in love with him too I wouldn't be shocked. You can be sure she has her own agenda and her own perspective of how things happened. Especially since her own child was involved." Gloria was starting to feel exasperated. She'd always known that these things would have one day come to light, but it was taking a toll on her already limited strength. "That's enough Kara. I know this is hard for you, and you only worry so because of your love for us. We love you too. You are like a daughter to me and I ask that you trust me once more. Now go, I need to speak with Lisa alone."

Kara stood slowly and retreated from the room like a chastised puppy. It was all so unreal that she couldn't think of what to say or do, so she went to the kitchen and started cooking. For whom or what she didn't know, she just cooked.

Mrs. Aguilar gestured for Lisa to come kneel before her. Lisa felt like a child again, coming to her precious Mama for advice and comfort.

"Mi Amor. I know you're scared, but please don't be. It's made me so happy to see you awakening to a new chance to love and live. It's been so long since either of us could really reach that place inside of us. Now we've both felt it again, I don't want to see it lost because of silly suppositions." She cooed to her daughter.

"Oh Mami, I don't know if I'm strong enough. If it were someone different, someone without such a history too maybe it would be easier."

"Our heavenly father doesn't do things according to what is easier for us or when he thinks we're ready, he has a plan for every one of us, but it's up to you to recognize and follow it." The old woman leaned forward and placed affectionate kissed all over her daughters face. If she could only convey the depth of her love for her only child through them, maybe the younger woman would finally understand how important all this was for everyone involved.

Mother and daughter remained in deep conversation well into the night, until Gloria's fatigue was just too much to withstand. In the morning Lisa would start preparing for her first Monster's Ball.


	31. Chapter 31

CHAPTER 31

Tonight Erik would take his normally devilish style up just a few quotients, and debut a new Raven mask. He thought it only fitting for his new situation. It would cover all of his face down to the jaw, curving slightly to frame his mouth. The surface had been carefully etched to resemble overlapping feathers, the nose elongated and sharpened to the threatening point of a bird's beak. He liked it, feeling the portrayal as a harbinger of death fit him even better than the deaths mask of a living corpse.

Having resolved himself to follow through with the nights events, be it to whatever end, Erik took up position atop the roof of his theater to watch and wait. A steady stream of costumed park goers filtered into the building. He listened to the strained sounds of music from the players in the orchestra pit as it flitted through the air.

Always the perfectionist, his mind documented each offending note and its perpetrator for future reprimand. Soon the invited attendees would be settling in their seats for the day's final grand performance of _Innuendo_ , a production he'd written and choreographed for the evening. It wasn't his finest work, intended only to feed the uncultured drones the kind of raunchy entertainment they craved. Erik felt it reflected little of the mastery he had once exhibited, but he felt it was the best of what that kind of entertainment could be.

Erik's anticipation was reaching its zenith as the time to curtain call was only minutes away. He had to take several deeps breaths each time his perusal of the shrinking crowd yielded nothing. In a huff of pacing he decided that he had enough of being a pawn to whatever game Lisa was playing. It was then that he lifted his eyes to look across the boardwalk.

There, upon a wooden bench with eyes fixed on him, sat a figure wearing a crimson gown and sporting the feathered mask of a phoenix. Although the distance was too great, Erik felt he could see the glint of those emerald eyes following his movement. He felt vexed. This woman had the uncanny knack of catching him in ways none other had managed, even his Christine. Without losing sight of his quarry, Erik descended the side of the building by climbing down a fire escape.

Lisa knew she'd been found. As Erik reached the fire escape she rose and moved to meet him in the alley way where he'd landed. Her will battled the shakiness of her legs to take her there, and when she'd crossed into the dimmed light where he stood she feared that she might crumble to the ground.

"How long have you been watching me?" he asked in a deceptively light voice.

Normally Erik's attempts to unsettle Lisa with his sometimes menacing demeanor would have little effect except to challenge her, but outside the comfort and advantage of her home she felt the edge to his voice pierce the wall of her bubble.

"I arrived just after sunset and sat over there to watch the crowd and collect my thoughts." Even her natural self-confidence was wavering.

"That was nearly 2 hours ago, and I've been up there nearly that long." He took a few baleful steps toward her, feeling that at the moment he'd gained the advantage.

"Yes, I saw you appear."

"Yet you didn't make yourself known, why?"

"I don't know. I'm sorry to make you wait. Perhaps it's best I go." Lisa's discomfort had quickly progressed to annoyance and she was ready to turn and leave when he captured her hand.

"You've never been so easily frightened before, it's endearing to see you so off balance." He teased.

"Humph, of course you'd find it entertaining. Well, I believe you promised me a show and it sounds like things are getting started." Lisa's grip on Erik's hand had tightened. He felt an equal tightening grip in his chest as he turned to guide her to the side entrance of the theater.

He opened the backstage door and guided her into the darkness of the building. Lisa could see the lights of the stage several feet in front of her, but Erik immediately drew her away and down a vacant hallway. After a short distance they reached a tightly spiraling stair. Erik led the way, never letting go of her warm palm until they'd gone through a door and he settled her in a chair. He closed the door behind them and locked it before taking the seat next to hers.

Lisa was thrilled to discover they were in a small kind of opera box. She could see the stage fully, and had only to lean forward to see the entirety of the hall. It was much larger than she had expected and was decorated in a grim and macabre way to fit the festivities. Below row upon row of costumed theatergoers filled every seat in the house, and a low roar of chatter rose up until the hall lights dimmed.

The stage seemed to fill with a kaleidoscope of color as the dancers filed in and the music exploded like an eerie howling. A light and fanciful type of carnival music began to flow as a parade of performers marched back and forth across the floor, each taking center stage for just a moment to showcase a particular talent or oddity. When at last that platform was filled to bursting the mob converged for a few well-choreographed maneuvers before the curtain fell on them.

After only a few seconds the orchestra began drumming a low Caribbean beat. When the lights came back up and the curtain was once again pulled back the stage was filled with a fresh set of individuals. Each female performer was adorned with a multitude of feathers, making them look like a flock of gaudy parrots. The males came out in tights and face paint that made each look like a great cat. There were lions, tigers, panthers and jaguars. The men played at chasing the prancing petites as they swarmed to and fro.

One girl dressed as a golden macaw led the troupe, singing about the preened and prestige life of the winged folk. They kept an easy arms-length from their hungry pursuers. Then in a quick turn the stage light turned inky blue and the birds let out a shrill cry. From the colorful back drop curtain emerged a large artificial feline being operated like a marionette by men situated above the performance space.

The birdies below shrieked and cowered as the beast pounced one by one, making them disappear behind a quickly slung veil until finally only the golden macaw remained. Nimbly she leapt and avoided sweeping claws and tail until in one great pounce she was consumed by the creature. A wealth of crimson confetti exploded from the rafters as the musicians crescendo echoed in the building. The final curtain fell and the audience erupted in applause.


	32. Chapter 32

CHAPTER 32

"Did you like it?" he asked.

"Yes." She had hesitated only a moment before answering.

"I admit it's not the ballet, or the opera, but the park goers seem to like it." He commented.

"I can understand why, the music is magical and the imagery in the lyrics is vivid, but you're right, it's not the opera or the ballet. I liked it either way." Erik let out a small unsatisfied sigh.

They were silent for a while longer as the sounds of retreating footsteps faded away and the lights were put out. Soon enough they were alone in the theater, whose only illumination came from a pair of gas lamps that were left lit by the doors that led out to the boardwalk. The box in which they sat was pitch black, and even Lisa's keen eyes would have trouble finding the way out without assistance. The strange part was that neither she nor Erik was in a hurry to escape its confines. Sitting quietly they simply enjoyed the presence of the other.

"Perhaps… I have a place here. I could play you something more to your liking if you wish?" He said softly.

"I would enjoy that." Seeing only the faint outline of his form, Lisa watched Erik stand and approach her. He gently took her hand and guided her to stand and follow him. They went back out and down the spiral stair that had brought them to the opera box. When they reached the first floor platform, instead of exiting the door that led back to the alleyway, another dark passage was revealed that descended to an area that was at least 2 floors beneath the stage.

When they reached the bottom Lisa lost the safe grip of Erik's hand and was left standing alone in what seemed like an endless darkness. She heard the jingle of keys, the scraping of a lock being released, and the creak of a door being opened. He pulled her through the new opening and then his footsteps moved away from her. The small explosion of a match being lit flared in the darkness and resolved into the five points of light from a candelabrum.

The first thing she saw was his mask, the white porcelain half mask he normally wore. Somehow he had managed to discard the black raven's mask he'd been wearing.

"Slipped into something more comfortable I see." She teased, and the ghost of a smile touched the corner of his mouth. Carefully she moved forward and the rest of the room began to come into focus. It was fairly large and occupied a space directly below the musicians pit and stage above. There were no windows that she could find, nor could she make out the color of the walls but guessed they were black or nearly so. But the part that amazed Lisa the most as she neared the center, was a large black piano that glistened under the candlelight.

Erik had seated himself on the bench, waiting for her to reach the instrument. When she did, Lisa stood facing him and ran her hands across the shiny surface of the piano. Erik opened the cover of a loose leaf portfolio that had already been in place. He positioned his hands over the keys, but before he began he looked up into Lisa's eyes.

It took a moment for Lisa to quantify what she saw in those orbs. There was pain and sorrow, mixed with excitement and passion, but there was also fear. Was he afraid of her, or of the music? She knew already that his practiced hands had no risk of faltering in playing, and it humbled her that he'd give her a private performance.

The music began softly, using very little effort to bring each chord to life. The room had been made to have the best acoustics she'd ever heard and the music seemed to stroke every inch of her skin. She was hearing more than a pretty collection of notes, a story was being told and even without lyrics Lisa could feel the emotions it conveyed. Longing, desire and pain, then with a faint build of melody there was hope.

She closed her eyes and felt the colors of it fill her mind. They danced in her head and splashed against an invisible surface. The aching need in the melody made Lisa ache for her paint brush so that she could paint this music. It would burst forth with black and grey before bleeding red and purple onto the canvas, but just before the vision began to take shape the music stopped.

Lisa's eyes popped open as if she'd been startled from a deep sleep. Erik was staring at her, his eyes wide and rapt, glistening with unshed tears.

"Why did you stop?" Lisa asked with a shaky voice.

"It's unfinished. I was writing it just before…" his eyes trailed away and he looked over the last page of the composition once more before gently closing the cover. Erik stood and walked to her. He stopped only inches away then leaned over and blew out the flames from each candlestick. Blackness swam again around Lisa, causing her senses to ignite. She became achingly aware of Erik's heat as it collided with her own. Anticipation seemed to bleed into the air, making it thick. In moments all they could hear was their increasingly ragged breathing.

Erik's hand found Lisa's on the surface of the piano. He massaged each digit from tip to base with his fingers, giving special attention to the tender flesh in between. He then lifted it and kissed the knuckles, than the tips of each finger and finally the warm palm.

All of Lisa's senses were focused on his touch, and when she felt his lips it made her entire body tingle. But the biggest shock was when he started brushing his face against her sensitive hand. Having the comfort of darkness to hide him he'd discarded the mask, and guided her fingers to explore the distorted flesh of one side then the smooth angelic skin of the other.

Lisa's mind exploded with a whirlwind of color as the paintbrush of her imagination kicked in. She wondered if he knew that as an artist she was able to visualize every inch of his face as she caressed it. Every rough rise of skin and twisted sinew took shape in her mind, so when she raised her lips to find his in the darkness she knew the reality of the person she yearned for.

Lisa felt his breath first, then his lips soft and strong against hers. She led the way at first as they only brushed, testing the suppleness of tender skin. Then in a rush of passion he pressed his mouth fully to hers and she opened to offer him her surrender. He hesitated only a moment before slipping his tongue inside to claim her.

If it wasn't for the support of the piano on one hip and the grip of his long fingers on the other, Lisa would have crumpled to the floor on legs that had become jelly. Her hands were still caressing his face as she tasted his desire. Growing bolder with each second she reached to feel the muscles of his neck as they worked.

Erik had pulled Lisa into a painfully demanding hold that pressed the entire length of her body into his, and Lisa's own body was responding with equal fervor. She could feel every bit of his hardness enticing her. Lisa was his willing prey, aching more with every passing second to be made his entirely.

With Charles she'd been the virginal blushing bride, not knowing or understanding the burning desire within. His experienced touch had taught her how to savor the intimacy between a man and woman. Now it was different, she was different. She craved and hungered for this strange man in ways she knew weren't conventional even in the new world. Would he think her brazen and shameless for responding to him in such earnest? Lisa pulled away, gasping for breath but not letting go of Erik's shoulders.

"Are you alright, did I hurt you?" there was confusion and anxiety in his voice.

"No, no, it's just been a long time since… well, since I've felt like this. Since I've wanted…" she trailed off, uncertain how to express herself and unsure if she should admit her need. He let out a small disbelieving huff.

"And what do you want?" He asked tremulously.

"I want you Erik, as if it isn't already very obvious." Lisa buried her face into the front of his coat as tears threatened. Admitting it to herself had been a difficult enough ordeal, having to say it out loud to him was grueling. But it had opened up something inside of her. Lisa felt so vulnerable.

There was suddenly so much she wanted to say, but couldn't find the words to express her feelings. If he was to reject her now she knew she'd die. Erik raised his arms to wrap around her shoulders and hold her in a possessive embrace. Lisa was pliant in his arms, ready to give him anything and everything if he would just ease the throbbing ache of her soul.

"Lisa, will you stay here with me tonight?" he asked.

"Yes." Lisa responded. Her voice wavered from the weight of her need. She didn't recognize the sound, but before she could panic his lips were on hers again, and his hands were everywhere. Urgency was building.

Undaunted, Erik caressed her shoulders and felt his way down to the small of her back. With each pass he grew more daring, running his hands over her bottom and thighs. He came up high enough to brush his thumb along the underside of her breasts, making her shutter. She also began stroking his body through the suit, feeling the long limbs and narrow waist. He was so warm that she wanted to crawl inside of him and sleep forever. The thought made her smile into their kiss.

"Is there something funny?" he asked.

"I just feel… good, very… good." She said on a long sigh, spreading her fingers wide on his chest to feel the shape and the beat of his heart. "Someone once told me that if you can't laugh with your lover then you have the wrong person in your bed."

"Then I'll have to think of some good jokes, but we're not lovers yet." He teased.

"Semantics, quickly remedied." She said.

"Well, not that quickly." At the same moment he recaptured her lips, Erik bent forward and swept Lisa up, cradling her against his chest. It was still pitch black and Lisa couldn't see where he was taking her. She heard a door open and his footsteps became muffled as they transitioned from wood to carpeted floors. After a few feet Erik stopped, released her legs and lowered her to the ground.

She'd already managed to loosen his cravat and tossed it aside. She slid the buttons of his jacket free, then those of his waistcoat and finally of his shirt. When she felt the silky skin and springy hairs of his chest she moaned loudly with approval. Eric hissed a breath of pure elation at the feel of her hands exploring him. It was a sensation so alien he had to fight the reflex to pull away, but at the same time so delicious it kept him routed.

Christine's touch had been hesitant and modest in comparison to Lisa's hungry petting. Finding it hard to hold back Lisa leaned forward to kiss his chest. His scent was immediately intoxicating, and Lisa couldn't resist tasting him. Erik only held her tenderly as she drank in the nectar of his body. She pulled and tugged the clothes from his arms until he was naked from the waist up.

Lisa looked with her hands, and saw with her heart so that when she felt the marks of scars on his torso and back it startled her. His face had not scared her, but the long strips of raised flesh and misshapen areas of indented tissue that she traced were horrifying. Had he been whipped and burned?

"Erik! How did this happen to you." It took him a moment to register her question. He'd been drunk on the feeling of her touch, but her words had suddenly made him feel ashamed to be so exposed.

"Remember what I'd told you about my childhood. The gypsies didn't just see me as an animal; they also treated me like one." There was sadness in his statement, but not the same bitterness he had shown when he'd first described his captivity to her. What had changed she wondered.

Lisa circled around him and kissed every inch of skin she could, and there was plenty to keep her busy. Erik threw his head back as he relished the sensation. It wasn't pity, pity Erik would not have allowed, nor was it sympathy. It was something far more precious that he couldn't yet identify, but when Lisa circled back to stand before him he was too distracted to analyze it. The ruffles of her dress brushed against his belly as she caressed his scars, and his erection jumped against the restrictive binding of his trousers.

She was wearing a lot more clothes then he was now and Erik wanted to remedy the unbalance as soon as possible. Thankfully his knowledge of women's apparel had expanded since he took up the task of designing some of the show girls outfits. While she was busy with exploring his exposed flesh, he found and began slipping buttons out of buttonholes on her dress. As soon as she felt it was loose enough she stepped back and tugged it off.

How he wanted to look at her, but if he could see her then she'd be able to see him, and he could not take the look of disgust on her face. Surely she would find him repugnant and seek to escape. He had some small hope, that after loving him, she would not be appalled by his face like Christine. Although he knew it to be inevitable, Erik hoped to avoid the big reveal as long as possible.

There was the sound of some more shuffling. When he reached out he expected to find a corset to tangle with or another of the layers women wore, but was greeted instead by hot skin.

"You weren't wearing anything under that dress this whole time?" His voice had an uncharacteristic tenor as he imagined her.

"I'm not a big fan of corsets, and everything else is pretty easy to slip off. Does it bother you?" She knew she sounded like a schoolgirl afraid of displeasing a beau, instead of a grown woman about to accept a new lover. Lisa tried to shake off her own inhibitions before she turned tail and ran.

"I assure you I have no complaints." Erik collected Lisa's bare waist and pulled her close. Her generous breasts were crushed against his chest, and when he kissed her he growled audibly. Erik pushed Lisa backward until the back of her knees collided with a bed, and she instinctively sunk down taking him with her. With her hands she sought out the pillows and head board, then laid back to get comfortable. Erik was with her every step of the way and settled down next to her to caress her bosom.

He measured every inch of each mound before dipping down to seek and capture the aching peak in his mouth. He felt like a wanton animal as he took all he wanted from her, but every sound she made encouraged him to continue. Erik may have been a novice in experience, but he'd had decades to study all the techniques that would bring a woman pleasure.

Erik had spent many long moments imagining all the things he yearned to do. During his days as the phantom he'd very nearly exploded with need daily while he lusted after Christine, but rarely did he succumb to the temptation of self-abuse. He'd denied himself any form of release until he could have her.

Erik had believed it a necessary discipline, and reserved himself for only his music or her. It was during his most manic episodes of desire that he created his best works. Most would consider the self-control he commanded phenomenal given his situation. That last night she'd come to him, he'd taken her over and over, filling a need that might never be sated. Now, even though his technique was much more calculated, Eric's passion was still a beast he had to fight with for control.

Erik spent many long moments honoring the tender globes of Lisa's breasts. Lisa then took his hand and sucked each finger in turn before guiding them down to sink between her thighs. She led his hands to trace and learn every fold, until finding the hardened nub that was the core of her longing. He remembered touching Christine this way, but he'd only explored those feminine secrets while trying to let her whimpers teach him. Lisa knew what was needed and he allowed her to show him what she wanted for a while, but then took the initiative to command her pleasure.

He found the swollen opening to her body and dipped his fingers into her wet heat. First one digit tested the tight ring of her entrance by twirling just the tip around and around, then a second and a third before pushing slowly into the channel; Lisa arched her hips as her hunger swelled. Soon he was stroking her with an escalating rhythm. It was like playing an instrument, a living and breathing instrument whose need to crescendo was building steadily. All his concentration was set upon it, but when she reached down to touch the bulge of his pants he was nearly undone.

"I need you now Erik. Please now." She moaned. He unbuttoned and kicked off his pants in record time, tossing them to the floor with his shoes, than positioned himself over her. She obligingly spread her knees and reached to find the turgid flesh of his manhood. She petted along the shaft and cupped his testicles before guiding him into her depths.

In the moment they were joined both let out a loud sigh of delight. It was like coming home, and nothing else existed on the earth but them. Lisa's eyes rolled as he filled her, the girth of his cock spreading her secret lips. His length immediately reached that place deep inside her that sparked the spasms that preceded her climax.

Erik tried to keep the pace as slow as possible for as long as possible, but the need clawing inside him was growing louder and louder, and Lisa's hips rising up to meet him made keeping control a near impossibility. The vessel of her body was programmed to grind her aching pubis against him and maximize the friction between them. Each slide of his pulsing erection against the swollen and slick walls of her sex set his blood on fire. Moving in a dance as old as time, Lisa and Erik's body collided in one moment than moved in unison the next, riding every wave of sensation to its crest.

They began to gain tempo, his grunts matching her moans as they undulated together on the bed. Unable to hold back any longer, Erik began to thud hard into her, as if he were trying to creep inside her. Lisa's moans became a pained whimper until the explosion of her orgasm burst forth in an animalistic scream that almost sounded like his name.

Lisa's body convulsed and went rigid underneath him. Her cry of release filled the room and reverberated off the walls. Erik felt the canal of her womanhood grip and pulse around his cock, drawing the juices from him and making him explode within her. Every cell of his body seemed to ignite and burst like the combustion of fireworks.

Even after he'd spilled all his seed and she'd collapsed spent, he kept riding her until slowly and only because of exhaustion he stilled and lay down on top of her. The weight of his body was delicious. When he tried to roll off of her, Lisa held him firmly in place. It made him laugh at her as he kissed her shoulder and collar bone. They stayed for a long time that way, with him still nestled within her and exchanging amorous kisses.

He couldn't remember where, but at some point his wig had been discarded. She languidly stroked his scalp and the few strands of scraggly hair he had. He was too satisfied at that moment to worry about his appearance and simply enjoyed the tenderness. There was a fullness to the moment that hadn't been there after he'd loved Christine. Erik knew without having to think what the difference was. There was a promise here, though neither had said it, of a sunrise.


	33. Chapter 33

CHAPTER 33

Could this have been how Christine had felt as she lay sleeping in his arms after their lovemaking, dreaming of a tomorrow full of new possibilities; not knowing that at that same time he was dreaming of horror and sorrow, and the inevitably of leaving her alone again. Of all the mistakes he'd made, what could he ever due to atone for denying the very thing he'd killed to attain.

Erik didn't need the rising of the sun or the chiming of an alarm clock to let him now when it was morning. His internal clock had been tuned to wake him well before the earliest risers, but when he opened his eyes this morning he knew he'd slept in. He was surprised to hear the muffled notes of early rehearsals, but not as surprised as finding he wasn't alone in bed.

In a blaze he remembered all the events of the last several hours. Lisa had come to the island to watch the show, and then he'd brought her down here to his old lair. Then they'd made love. A lump caught in his throat as the fresh memories replayed in his mind.

Erik had crossed a great barrier within himself to arrive at this moment. All the things he had been, all the things he believed himself to be, seemed far away as if set adrift on the tide and washed out to sea. He felt like a complete man for the first time in years, but more whole than he had ever come close to before. All the things that had kept him from pursuing happiness seemed dim at that moment, but if she were to deny him he was sure he'd die.

With Christine love and desire had grown from a small flame to an inferno that had consumed his entire existence. They had only one night together, but it had been the culmination of a lifetime of longing for acceptance, for love, and for desire.

There wasn't a second of that night that wasn't etched into his memory. It gave him both joy and torment. At times he thought it would have been better to have never loved her, so that he wouldn't have the memory of that ecstasy, especially knowing he'd never have it again.

Now was different, he was different. It felt so real and so natural being in the darkness with Lisa. All the ghosts of his past seemed to have stepped aside to allow him another chance to feel alive.

At some point in the night they'd shifted position and were now lying on their sides spooning. They fit perfectly together, and feeling her body folded into his made his loins stir. Erik feared he'd lost total control as he began running his fingertips up and down her hip. How could he expect more after she'd given so much? As he passed a spot very near to the hip joint she would reflexively shiver, and he chuckled to himself.

"And what's so funny?" she said groggily. Lisa rolled slightly and was able to find his lips in the darkness. For many moments they kissed and held each other in the darkness. "Erik?"

"Um huh." He muttered.

"Where's the bathroom?" Erik blinked himself back to reality. Lisa felt the mattress spring up as he stood from the bed, and followed the sound of his feet as he left the room. Lisa heard the click of a switch and a soft white light came from an open door about 10 feet from where she lay.

Erik stood just to the right of the doorway in shadow. The small amount of light that found him revealed his nakedness, but he'd somehow managed to put on the white porcelain mask. She felt he was testing her, daring her to show disgust or sneer at him. But the smile that spread across her face and the twinkle in her eye hinted that not only did she not find him repulsive; she enjoyed the sight. In fact, her wandering eyes showed clearly how she wanted more. Erik blushed, actually blushed as he stood there proudly.

Lisa had to gather her own courage as he stood waiting for her to exit the bed. She thought of wrapping the black satin sheet around her, but realized that such modesty was foolish. The thought of him seeing her was exciting and she didn't want to hide anything more from him. She strode leisurely to the open door, allowing all the time in the world for his eyes to explore her. He particularly seemed to enjoy the bounce of her breast as she walked. He was partially erect as she passed him and entered the restroom, closing the door lightly on his beguiled eyes.

For several moments Erik stood looking at the closed door. The room was returned to blackness except for the small amount of light that escaped from under the bathroom door. Seeing Lisa's naked body exit his bed after a night of passion had greatly affected him; more than just stirring his lust, it had caused his heart to swell.

How could he awaken another day without wanting her next to him? And at any moment she would emerge from the bathroom. Would she want to be with him again? Could they spend all day in a firestorm of ardor?

Erik heard the flush of the toilet and the faucet being turned on. His heart was tripping wildly with anticipation, but he had to take care of his own body's needs. He moved quickly out of the room to use the common rest room of the large apartment that was his lair. Once he was finished, he moved to the kitchen to collect a few bits of fruit, cheese and juice for a small breakfast.

He'd prepared the underground suite for Lisa's visit. It was certainly presumptuous of him, but it wasn't part of Erik's character to consider such things. When he heard the sound of water running in the shower, he was grateful he'd had the foresight to make sure they were well supplied.

Erik inventoried the tray of food while he waited for the teapot to boil. Suddenly the phone in his study rang. He nearly jumped out of his skin at the unexpected intrusion. His first response was annoyance and anger at being interrupted, but realized that only Mr. Gangle knew where to find him and that his loyal subject would only call if there was a serious emergency. Erik darted to the study and grabbed the receiver by the 4th chime.

"What is it?" he asked with a mix of anger and concern, but it wasn't Gangle who answered him.

"Father… its Gustave. Is Lisa with you?" the boy sounded strained, causing Erik's throat to go dry. He was alive, that at least was obvious, and so what else could be going on.

"Why, what's happened?" he asked as gently as he could.

"It's Mrs. Aguilar. She fell in the night and passed away." said Gustave on a hushed sob, and then rallied himself quickly. "Kara called here looking for Lisa since she never returned from Phantasma. I assumed since you hadn't either you'd be together. Squelch is taking me to the mansion now. Mr. Gangle and Ms. Fleck are on their way to pick you up. They left a while ago so they should be there at any moment." As if on cue there was a small knock on the door. Erik took a deep breath as his high came to an unceremonious end.

"Yes, they have arrived. We'll see you at the mansion. I love you Gustave." It wasn't often that Erik used those words, although a day didn't pass that they weren't true. But at that moment it seemed very important to say them.

"I love you too father. Please take care of her. See you soon." said Gustave.

"I will." He replaced the receiver, and turned right away to collect clothes from his closet. Within moments he was dressed. He walked as calmly as he could back to the bedroom. Lisa was waiting for him on the bed. She was lying on her side with the black satin blanket draped seductively over her figure. She'd lit the small brazier and the firelight was playing tantalizingly over her features. When Erik entered her broad smile instantly fell.

"Get dressed." He said quietly and then retreated. He needed another moment before unveiling the unhappy news. Why was it left to him to hurt the woman who'd given him new life? He finally answered the knocking of the door. Erik gave quick instructions to the odd pair, closed the door and sat on the piano bench waiting for Lisa. She emerged only a few minutes later, ready for whatever awaited her. He didn't really register the pained look on her face and the way she avoided meeting his eyes.

Lisa didn't understand what had happened. Was he regretting what had passed between them? Or was he ashamed of bedding a woman out of wedlock? Perhaps he was just done with her, having gotten the only thing he wanted. Maybe he'd found her lacking in some way, or unworthy?

Her mind was awash in questions while she dressed. It was almost impossible for her to hold back the tears that wanted to escape her eyes. When she was done and came out of the room, she couldn't look at him. Lisa was afraid of what she'd see in his eyes, and what she wouldn't see. She stood for many moments waiting for him to say something.

"There's been an incident." He'd gotten up from the piano and stood right in front of her. Being alieved of her apprehensions for a moment by his statement, she looked up at him. His eyes weren't cold or dismissive, they were sad.

"What incident?" she asked.

"Your mother fell in the night…. We must return to the mansion at once." Erik couldn't bring himself to say the rest. In an instant Lisa forgot about everything else. She darted past him and out of the underground lair so fast he had to jog to catch up.

Mr. Gangle waited for them with a horse and carriage in the same alleyway they'd met the night before. Even though the motorized carriage was more comfortable, it was nowhere near as fast as these standard means of transport.

It was a silent journey as they sat opposite of one another. The distance to the mansion from Coney Island was much quicker than from Long Island, so they arrived before Gustave. Without waiting for anyone to escort her down in ladylike fashion, Lisa bolted from the carriage as it pulled up to the curb. The gate had graciously been left open and Kara stood at the end of the path just in front of the door, barring her entrance. Lisa skidded to a halt before her.

"Where's Mama, is she alright?" Lisa demanded. Kara's face scrunched into a look of confusion, and then she looked beyond Lisa to Erik.

"So you didn't tell her. " Though she didn't say it, Erik could read it in Kara's eyes… _coward!_ He bristled under her judging gaze, but was doused quickly by the understanding that he had acted with consternation.

Kara descended the few steps slowly and gently took Lisa by the shoulders. "Mama Aguilar has passed on child, she is gone." There was no sound from the stunned woman, not even of breadth, until she suddenly broke away from Kara's embrace and rushed into the house at a dead run. Kara remained standing on the stone path looking forward.

Erik felt torn between her reproachful stare and his need to follow, but he finally made a decision and blew past her to follow Lisa to her mother's room. As he approached Erik knew already she was inside. Her wails filled the hall like those of a mythical banshee, and each crescendo of pain crushed the breadth in Erik's chest a little more.

Dr. Gilles stood to one side. Lisa had thrown herself on the body of her beloved matron, shuttering with her cries. The old woman's figure seemed so much smaller to Erik than he remembered, but the look on her face was the most serene he'd ever seen on a person. It even seemed she wore a small smile, like she was proud of herself.

Perhaps she'd gotten out of bed in the swoon of a pleasant dream, perhaps she was dreaming still. Erik hoped so, he'd come to know Mrs. Aguilar in a short time better than others he'd known for years. If he'd had a mother, he'd of liked one like her. He was sure his life would have been very different under her warm and nurturing parentage.

Erik was pried from his musings when he realized Lisa had started talking, but not to him. She was muttering to the corpse in Spanish, and he strained to make out what she was saying through her tears.

"Mami, no me puede dejar sola. Te necessito. No ahora, est moy temprana Mami. Yo trate de asel que to queria, Mami. Perro no puedo sin ti. Mi culpa, toda es mi culpa. Yo devia quethal me aqui. Est mi responsebildad a quidar te, Mami. Porque me mandaste a acostar me con esse hombre. Yo lo sabia que eva salir mal. Yo prometi, seimpre lo prometi." On and on she went, in one moment blaming herself for not being there and in the next blaming her mother for encouraging her. And a promise, a promise she'd made and broken.

When her rant was over she buried her face in the dead woman's hair and continued sobbing. Kara then came forward and placed a hand on Lisa's shoulder. The change was so sudden, all those present gasped. Lisa whirled around with an extended arm. Kara had to jump back to avoid being struck down.

"Deja me, deja me quetta. Salte de aqui ahora!" Erik than tried to reach out for her, but she stood and lunged at him, placing her palm flat on his chest and pushing him away with her full strength. He stumbled back, and Dr. Gillis had to steady him. Erik was about to try again when Kara stayed his hand. Tears had started to pour from the colored woman's eyes, though her voice remained steady and clear.

"Please, give her time. Leave her to me. Gustave has arrived, please see to him. Don't let him in here until she is better. Please." Erik didn't want to concede to her judgment, but he could hear the child's hurried steps approaching. His instincts as a father swayed him enough to agree. Kara pushed both Erik and Dr. Gilles out the door and closed it at once. Gustave came, flying down the hall and launched himself into Erik's embrace. His face was streaked with dried tears, and fresh ones had begun to fall.

"Papa, it's so horrible. Where is everyone? Where's Lisa, I must see her and pay my respects to Mama Aguilar." He pleaded.

"Lisa's in there now with Kara. She is very upset and needs some time alone." Erik said stoically, a numbness having settled on his mind.

"But I can help her. I have to tell her it will be alright. She has us now, doesn't she Papa, and we love her." Erik didn't know how to respond. Young and innocent as he was, Gustave wasn't completely ignorant of the ways of the world, especially since discovering his true lineage. All the man could do was nod his agreement.

"Come let's make some tea for everyone." Erik led the boy to the kitchen with Dr. Gilles trailing behind them. He'd stood as a silent witness to all that had transpired. When they reached the kitchen all were silent as Erik prepared the beverage. When each of them had a steaming cup in hand Dr. Gilles gave them a breakdown of all the nights' events.

He believed the elderly woman had been sleep walking, a habit she'd had since childhood although it had not reoccurred for many years. In the dark of the house and under the shadow of the dream she'd fallen and hit her head on the sharp corner of the dresser. There was no indication that she moved again from the moment on, so he concluded that she either died instantly or was knocked unconscious and died from brain swelling.

There would be no autopsy since no foul play was suspected and such procedures were only for questionable circumstances. Thankfully the autumn air was dry and cool. They could wait a few days to bury her to have a proper wake and funeral. Arrangements were already being made. He would leave it to Kara and Lisa to prepare the body, as was customary in Spanish households. Madam Aguilar would then be transported directly from the house to her final resting place.

Erik listened to every word with a cold acceptance. What had the old woman meant to him during their brief acquaintance or him to her? He'd only ever mourned Christine. No one else had ever been important enough for him to care if they lived or died. But he did care, though he didn't know how to express it.

The only way he knew to cope with it was to distance himself. Perhaps he could be of some assistance to those around him, but so far he'd been ousted from their presence. Erik considered if he and Gustave should even be there, it seemed they weren't wanted.

"I need to be off. You'll stay won't you?" Dr. Gillis asked him, Erik only stared back at him. "They'll need you both. I expect, given your relationship that you'll watch over them." He said with a slightly fatherly tone.

"Yes, of course." replied the man. Dr. Gilles gave him one final admonitory look before taking his leave.

Father and son spent a long time sitting silently in the kitchen. Neither ate and only drank sparingly of the tea. By the time they were roused the golden sun of early afternoon was filling the kitchen. Kara entered the door, moving slowly as if she'd aged many years in a short time. She came around to Gustave and hugged him affectionately, ruffling his already unkempt hair.

"It feels so good to see you child, especially now. It reminds us of the future." She kissed his cheek lovingly one last time before releasing him and moving to clear the cups. She didn't acknowledge Erik until she couldn't find anything else to do.

"I can't get her to move or speak. I think we should just give her some time, but we must keep a watchful eye. You two can help me prepare dinner, than get some rest. I'll need someone to sit with her while I sleep."

They worked quietly preparing vegetables while Kara prepared a sirloin for the large oven. They then retired to the sitting room until needed again. Lisa did not eat or acknowledge the food Kara presented her. She just sat next to her mother on the beds edge, looking at the old woman's profile.


	34. Chapter 34

CHAPTER 34

When Kara could no longer stay awake, Erik took up her spot in a corner chair. His eyes were as glued to Lisa as hers were to her mother. Neither spoke or slept. She moved only once to use the bathroom. Erik was reminded of the early morning, before this disaster had struck them. Would there again be a time where she would want or need him?

In the morning Kara relieved him of his chore, though there was nowhere else he desired to be. They kept Gustave away, fearing an outburst towards him. But by the end of the second day of this routine, worry for Lisa's physical and mental health won out.

Erik risked using Gustave to try and get through Lisa's wall of grief; if he could not reach her than they would have to try and force her. The funeral was one day away. Without being told too, Lisa had already washed and dressed the corpse. She wore a fine sky-blue gown, cinched in by a corset with matching slippers and gloves. It was many decades out of style, but made her look that much younger. Her long silvery hair was brushed out set to flow as one long river down her body, and her hands were arranged to hold the lock in a restful posture.

Both Erik and Kara stood within and arms reach of the boy as he approached the devastated woman. She didn't acknowledge him even when he stood only inches away. They held their breath as Gustave raised his small hand and placed it on Lisa's shoulder.

"She looks beautiful, doesn't she." He said. Lisa's head turned slowly until she saw him, but otherwise she didn't react. "When my mother died she was still as lovely as ever too. I still remember that. I'm sure you'll want to remember too, that's why you want to look at her as long as you can. I wish I could go back and do the same too. She really does look beautiful." He finished.

Lisa looked at Gustave looking at Mrs. Aguilar for a long time, than she reached out and collected him to her. With her arms wrapped tightly around him, she buried her face into the crook of his neck and wept. Gustave held her in return, stroking the long mass of her soft hair.

Erik wasn't a painter to equal Lisa's talent, but the scene is one that would remain etched in his mind forever. When she finally released the boy, it looked like all the fatigue she'd been denying took hold and her eyelids hung heavily. It looked like she would pass out at any moment.

Knowing the moment had come, Erik moved forward and as carefully as he could, lifted Lisa into his arms and left the room. She didn't resist, but she didn't say anything either. She just laid her head on his shoulder, and by the time he pushed the doors to her room open she was fast asleep. He settled her into bed and undressed her.

He had only a brief moment to enjoy the sight of her physique before pulling the covers over her. He was going to leave her there, but when he straightened to depart he found her hand tightly gripping his own.

Erik removed his coat, vest and boots. He slowly lay down next to her, mimicking the position they'd awoken in a few days before, and collected her against him. It felt so wonderful to him, but he was guilty given the circumstances.

In only minutes Erik also surrendered to sleep. No one disturbed them, and while they rested the final arrangements for the service were completed and papers had been sent from the lawyer's office for Lisa to sign. Everything was hers now, though she wanted nothing more than having her mother back.

It was early morning when Lisa awoke. A thick fog was pushing in on the windows of her room. Someone had lit a fire in the brazier, so the room was comfortably warm. Lisa wasn't surprised to feel Erik's arms wrapped securely around her. One of his hands even reached up to cradle her right breast protectively.

The breath on the back of her neck was the biggest reminder of how intimately connected they now were. What had she done, and what had it cost her? Those same questions had been rattling in her head for the last 3 days, like bullets looking for a way out and leaving carnage in their wake.

As delicately as she could, Lisa withdrew from the warm cocoon of her lover's arms and the bed. When she made it to the bathroom she locked the door behind her and drew a hot bath. She sat in it for a long time, her mind so jumbled she was practically catatonic.

At some point there was a knock on the door. Lisa debated on whether or not she should respond, but whoever it was probably wouldn't go away.

"Come in." she said, barely audibly. Slowly the door creaked open and a figure stepped into the bathroom.

Erik had managed to withdraw to the guestroom when he awoke and realized Lisa was in the bathroom. As quickly as he could he relieved and refreshed himself, putting on a fresh suit and a small amount of cologne. He'd also seen to Gustave, and made sure the boy was ready for the day's events. Now he was standing in the bathroom gazing down at Lisa's unreadable face.

"The funeral is in 2 hours. Mrs. Aguilar has already been placed the coffin that was delivered yesterday and she's displayed in the foyer. I can help you get ready." He wanted keep his voice as free as emotion as possible. Erik didn't think that most people saw this as dismissive because he hadn't had the thought to care about other people's feelings before. Now, he just didn't want his own emotions to bother Lisa.

Did she even want his help? Lisa wasn't sure what she wanted or should do, but as long as a task had been placed before her she would go along with it. She raised her hand out of the tub to beckon his assistance. Erik moved forward enough to accept it and pulled to make her exit easy.

Lisa stood dripping onto the tile for a moment before the air chilled her skin. Erik had been slow to realize it, but when it dawned on him he moved quickly to retrieve the nearby towel and hold it open for her. She stepped into it and he closed it around her. The motion had been enough to bring them close.

Lisa looked up into Erik's face, but for the first time she mostly saw the stark white porcelain staring back more than the flesh and bone half. She felt like it was mocking her, judging her for having given in.

She turned away, unable to handle it's gossamer gaze, and moved to the bedroom with Erik in tow. A black gown had been laid out, along with all the regular underclothes. Lisa looked at them as if they were rags, but she managed to dry off and start putting on each layer.

Erik was uncomfortable, but he stepped forward to assist her in lacing the corset and getting into the dress. When that was done, Kara arrived and took up the task of brushing and styling Lisa's hair. Erik left them to their work to check on Gustave again.

The boy was in the foyer with Dr. Gilles and a small group of guests that included his own trio of attendants. Erik joined them, and even managed to make small talk with the priest while they waited.

When Kara and Lisa appeared on the landing and started coming down the stairs everyone went quiet. It didn't get past Erik how the moment resembled the night of the concert, but the recognition made him angry for some reason. Could there be no peace for him and the lives he touched? He looked down to his son, whose face barely held back tears.

The day outside was ambiguously bright and warm for a late autumn. The prayers had been said, condolences whispered and farewells made. When the doors to the family mausoleum had been shut and bolted only Lisa, Kara, Erik and Gustave remained.

The boy held Lisa's hand, and she gripped it like she needed him for support standing. Lisa's midnight veil wasn't enough to hide the wealth of grief etched on her face. It was like a mask hiding the suffering within. She turned unhurriedly to speak.

"Gustave, go ahead of us. I need to speak with your father a moment." She said. The boy was clearly annoyed to be dismissed, but he wasn't about to argue and moved on towards the carriage where Dr. Gangle and the others waited. Erik waited for her to begin.

"Erik, I need you to do something for me." She said calmly.

"Of course." He replied without reluctance.

"I need time to gather my thoughts and put my mother's affairs in order. Please, take Gustave and go back to Long Island. When I am settled I'll send word to you both." It wasn't an odd request, but it immediately made Erik uneasy. He wanted her to need him, needed to be beside her, but here she was dismissing him like a servant whose contract was up.

Erik tried to find some sign of reluctance in her eyes, or any sign that hinted she wanted him to protest, but her expression was resolute. After a moment he reached out and collected her gloved hand. He brought it to his lips and gave it long, lingering kiss that was meant to convey his longing to be with her, but when he looked at her again there was no change.

Without another word Erik walked away. He didn't look back until he was standing with Gustave to board the carriage. Both Lisa and her friend were gone, leaving a gaping hole in the world. Erik told his son what she'd said to him, and he had the same thoughts.

Gustave had thought long and hard about everything that had happened over the past few months. Like anyone dealing with both new and old grief, he searched for patterns and a reason. In the end, he'd come upon what he considered a very simple epiphany.

If Lisa had never discovered them, they would undoubtedly be in a very different and dark place, and then she and Kara wouldn't have anyone to look after them during this difficult time. It had to be fate, and believing that not only gave him comfort, but it bolstered his faith that everything would work out. If he'd been raised to believe in such things like Lisa did, Gustave was almost sure a pair of ghostly arms was reaching out from the nether to hold him, and whisper in his ear that in the end, they would all be together.


	35. Chapter 35

CHAPTER 35

As the first day passed, then the second, and the third, Erik and Gustave knew things were not as they should be. A moment didn't pass that the man didn't consider going to Lisa and forcing his way back into her good graces, but he was a man with an ego like any other.

Gustave on the other hand would not be quiet on the subject. Although it made him rueful, Erik had to get away. So he left early on the fourth day and went to the park. With the holiday season on the horizon, attendance dwindled to only a few fun seekers. Any staff that had family that they could visit had been given leave to, so only a skeleton crew remained to man the park.

Among them was Madam Giry. Since the night of the concert she'd kept her distance, convinced once again that she was on the verge of ruin. She'd been on hand the night of the Monsters Ball, directing much of the performance, and afterwards she'd lingered to make sure that the concert hall was all in order.

She'd known the master had watched from his box with a guest, and she'd known that after they'd descended into his lair. Not emerging again till the morning. Through a series of carefully directed inquiries she'd discovered the tragedy that had cut their romance short.

Given that several days had passed and neither Erik nor Gustave had visited the widowed woman, and she had not in turn called on them, the rumor was that the affair was over. And the melancholy way Erik sulked around the park that day only bolstered everyone's suspicions.

Antoinette wasn't surprised everything had gone south so quickly. Though she had no suspicion that Erik had anything to do with the old woman's demise, she felt he had some culpability towards it. She suspected that the woman was probably feeling that same liability.

Madam Giry was surprised that her little conversation with the colored made had not caused more of a stir. She had made some veiled accusations that weren't necessarily well founded, but her intention had only been to instill a sense of gravitas for the situation; one that would hopefully filter down to Mrs. Faolan.

Though he never used the common entrances that patrons or employees used, Antoinette knew the moment he entered the theatre. For a while she watched his shadow out of the corner of her eye as he stood observing the remaining dancers rehearse. She knew this was a signal that he wanted to speak with her.

No matter how many years she'd been in the man's service or known his ways, it still made her nervous when he stalked her like this. As the performers dispersed, Antoinette lingered on the stage. The moment the last of them had exited the hall he stepped forward. She remained silent while he circled.

"The girls did well at the concert." He said nonchalantly. Giry gave a small nod. "The men on the other hand have no sense of grace or rhythm. They nearly collapsed the rig every time they ran into it." The older woman's face instantly fell and she began grinding her teeth in agitation.

"Perhaps if you spent as much time communicating with them the proper way to move as you have talking to maids they might have been bearable." He stopped right in front of her, blocking the light that illuminated the stage and casting her into an eerie gloom.

"I haven't said anything that wasn't true." She responded.

"You had no right to say anything at all." Erik's voice reverberated through the theater. "What is it exactly I have done to you and yours to have earned your constant interference in my life?"

"What have WE done by given you everything? And you never see, never acknowledge that we are anything more than disposable." Antoinette caught her breath against the emotion that was threatening to burst forth. "All I've ever done and help you, and look what it's cost me."

"And what has it cost me! What is it still costing me?!" For just a moment, Giry thought she heard some hurt underlying his outrage.

"I don't know what you want from me now. I have nothing left to give." She finished sadly. Erik resumed his pacing around her, making several circuits before he spoke again.

"Madam, I think it's time you joined your daughter." Erik said, mastering his temper as best he could. Antoinette's face fell.

"After everything you're finally getting rid of me. After all we've sacrificed and lost on your account you are goi…"

"SILENCE WOMAN! You're always taking things too far." He breathed deeply before continuing. "You are going to Chicago. I will arrange your passage. When you arrive I will have set up an account for you and Ms. Giry. Its funds won't be limitless, but it will be more than enough for the both of you to live comfortably for the rest of your lives. I will also right letters of recommendation for you both to the conservatory there if you wish, or perhaps you can open your own small studio." He finished.

Erik waited for a moment for her to respond, but she just stood there looking dumbfounded. It was definitely far from what she'd been expecting.

"You would do that… for us?" she asked skeptically.

"I think it's far past time for both of us to let go of the past, though I have not forgotten the service you have given me. The only other thing I need from you is to find a new choreographer for the troupe. Then you are free to go." Erik stopped just before he left the stage, waiting for her reply.

"Very well." She said weakly. So it was over, it was really over.

"Thank you," Was the last thing he said before disappearing. It was the first time he'd ever thanked her.

Madam Giry stood alone in the dim theater. She didn't know if she should be grateful or hurt, maybe she was a little bit of both. Was it really all over? Had the last act of their story been played out and another was about to begin. There was a mixture of relief and consternation warring in her mind.

After all these years of walking in Erik's shadow, Antoinette had acquired a proprietary sense of ownership over his life. From the moment she'd taken his hand and led him away from the frenzied mob of gypsies, she'd held herself as exclusively responsible for his well-being and survival. It had been an instinct so strong she'd even used Meg, her own daughter, to support it.

Who was she now without that purpose and goal? Defeated, Madam Giry left the stage and retreated to her apartment. She set to work right away with the last service she'd give the man she'd idolized for so many years. She finished the advertisement and set it aside for the morning post. The sun had set and she felt more tired than ever before.

There had been few times in her 48 years that she'd given in to tears, even when her lover had left her with a child out of wedlock or her daughter had been banished. But that night she cried herself to sleep.

When Erik stepped out onto the alleyway a cold chill had settled in the air. It made him shutter, but not because it was cold. It was the sense of disquiet he'd been carrying with him, and there was only one way to settle it.

Without another thought of what it, why, when, or how, Erik set out to find the resolution that agonized him. From the carriage to the ferry, then to the city streets he focused on just one thing, Lisa. To see her, hear her, hold her, was his only aim, because if he stopped to think about why he felt so… no he wouldn't even consider it.

The mansion was covered in a thick shroud of darkness as he approached, like it too had dressed for mourning. The gate was unlocked so he didn't have to scale the wall as he had in the past. He didn't knock on the door of course, because he was already so adept at jimmying the lock, but he didn't have to. It also was no secured, and he stepped in the building without resistance.

The only light he found was a soft glow coming from the right hall, where Mama Aguilar's sitting room was. Like an adventurer in a book, he tread lightly in that direction, not knowing what evil or miracle awaited him. The stillness of the entire house was strange after having spent so many full moments there.

As he reached the room's threshold he scanned the area. At first it seemed there was no life there, but his eyes finally found a lone figure sitting in the high-backed chair nearest the fire. The same chair Mama Aguilar had normally inhabited, but the woman sitting there now as still as death was much younger with copper hair that flowed around her face and sparked the emerald green of her eyes.

Lisa was looking back at him, but it didn't seem she was seeing him. Even as he came into the room and approached she did not acknowledge that he was a real person. When he was only a few feet from being within arm's reach of her, his foot kicked something on the ground.

A wooden box stuffed full with parchment and portfolios lay partially open before the fire. It seemed she might have been burning the contents. It gave him a feeling of foreboding, but it also prompted him to look about the room. All of the furnishings had been draped with white sheets, like when someone was leaving their residence for an extended period of time.

When Erik looked back at Lisa, her eyes were on the fire. She sat stiffly in a black dress that made her look like death's bride. He shuttered at the thought and steeled himself to speak.

"What's going on here?" was all he could come up with. He'd never been a man of few words before. Lisa didn't immediately respond, but she did seem to be blinking herself back to reality.

"I… I'm going away Erik." She said.

"When, where… for how long?" he said, feeling flustered. Lisa's frown deepened as she forced herself to answer.

"Forever"


	36. Chapter 36

CHAPTER 36

"You can't leave. It will destroy Gustave, and he's already lost so much."

"He's a strong boy, he'll be fine, and he has you." Lisa's voice was biting, and Erik grimaced at the tone. She sounded like a stranger.

"No it's not enough. He needs you. How can you hurt him so selfishly?"

"I am not his mother, just a friend who will pass into memory." Anger was seeping into her words. Somehow it relieved him to finally elicit some kind of emotion from her. It proved that even if she felt nothing for him, she still cared for the boy. If there was a chance of keeping her here, it was because of Gustave.

"No, you can't go. It was you who approached him that day on the street and invited him into your home. You offered him understanding and friendship, now you deny him out of fear and self-centeredness. You're like all women, petty and pandering about your own feelings while dismissing that of others." She turned to him with burning eyes, making the green irises dance with fury.

"How dare you? You don't know me and what I've endured."

"You think I don't know pain. I've dealt with more pain than you could imagine woman. I've been rejected and shunned by first my mother and then the entire world. Beaten and abused since before I could speak." Erik screamed down at her, barely repressing his anger and the desire to shake her. Lisa softened somewhat at his words, and the horror that they conveyed, but she didn't back down from him.

"Yes Erik, you've been through unspeakable torment, but that doesn't make you an expert on my pain; just as you'll never know the horrors of rape or the pain of losing a child." Lisa took a stood up, teetering under the weight of her words. Her voice was like a raspy whisper when she spoke again and her eyes looked out as if seeing shadows.

"The same men that murdered my husband took from me everything I had, and the trauma killed my unborn child. I was unconscious thank god. I'd been weeping over Charles. The guard didn't like it and planted the butt of his rifle in my head." Tears erupted and ran down Lisa's cheeks as she spoke.

"There was so much blood when I awoke, and so much pain. My clothes had been ripped off and I was so cold. Mother held me, but I could hear Kara screaming. Apparently when I'd miscarried due to their assault, it had put off the soldiers. Kara then took my place. I didn't have to watch like mother did. I was next to Charles and ready to die with my baby, but I didn't. I promised him that never again would any man touch me. I promised myself that I'd never give in to that kind of pain again. Oh God, I should have died."

Lisa squeezed her eyes shut and wrapped her hands around herself tightly, trying as hard as she could to escape the memories. Suddenly she snapped back to awareness and shot a piercing look at Erik. She advanced on him as her words evoked such pain and anger that he actually retreated.

"Do you realize what it meant to me to be in your bed after that? DO YOU?" Lisa was gasping, as if she was drowning. She wanted to beat his chest with her fists, but instead crumpled to the floor. He wasn't to blame and she held no ill will against him, quite the contrary. Her hands scratched at the rug like she was trying to find air.

Erik didn't know how to react. He'd never had to deal with the depth of suffering she'd confessed to him, a torment that rivaled his own. He lowered himself to his knees in front of her, collected her hands from the floor and brought them to his chest to try and urge her to look at him. She fought against him, but her resistance was weak. When her eyes found his there were no walls or boundaries that hid her soul. Her voice was small as she struggled to speak.

"I have to go Erik; I can't stay in this place, this city any longer. It's haunted by too many ghosts. It closes in on me, suffocating me, draining the life from my soul. The weight of so many memories is crushing my spirit. If I stay here much longer there won't be anything left worth saving. I want to live again, to feel life thudding through my veins, but I can't find the will to here."

"Do you think the ghosts won't follow you? Can't Gustav's friendship and mine be enough?" Lisa squeezed her eyes against the tears that flowed and buried her face against Erik's lapel. They stayed there for a long tine as a heap of anguish. In time her sobs subsided and her breathing steadied. Taking the opportunity, Erik retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at her eyes. Lisa straightened a bit and took the cloth to properly dry her eyes and running nose while still resting the side of her head against him.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he whispered as cautiously as he could.

"I wanted to leave the hurt behind, hoping that I could forget and I would be free, like it never happened." She chuckled at her own idiocy, a strange and unnatural sound in light of the situation. Her face hurt, her chest hurt, and inhaling stung her throat.

The entire world seemed like a grey, lifeless, soundless plane, except for the man who held her. He seemed to be brighter even in his somber black suit. She wanted to drink his energy, having so little left of her own. He was strong, so much stronger than he gave himself credit for, and if she could only borrow some of his strength maybe she could overcome the emptiness inside.

Lisa found the courage to look into his eyes, though she feared the disgust and recrimination used women like her often saw when people knew their shame. Instead, there was compassion and kindness in his gaze. How could he think himself so devoid of humanity as not to possess its most precious attributes, or not to be deserving of them?

Yes he'd murdered and been a slave to the evil within every man, but he'd never lost the love so many others forsook in their struggle. His love for Christine and for his son was alive inside him, and something more that was for her, albeit small. She felt grateful to have been gifted it, if only for a moment, and she wanted to remember what it tasted like forever more.

To Erik's surprise, Lisa lifted her lips to his. It was like a dying person reaching up to relish the last beats of life before the living world fell away. He couldn't resist it, and supplicated to her demanding onslaught. But when she reached for the edges of his mask he instinctively grabbed her wrist. They stood at an impasse. Lisa had showed Erik the ugliness she'd fought so hard to hide, could he do the same?

"I already know what you hide beneath this mask Erik." She admitted.

Erik's brow furrowed with disbelief as his eyes questioned her, "How?"

Leaving his embrace for only a moment, Lisa extended her arm to pull the box on the floor towards her. She rummaged through the documents it contained for a few seconds before finding her target, a stiff piece of parchment she handed to Erik. His eyes, wide before became like saucers as he perused the sheet. It was a sketch of him, without his mask and painstakingly accurate in the depiction of his deformity. Unaware he raised his right hand to touch that place he hated so much.

He wanted to feel violated, to feel embarrassed and ashamed like he always had when exposed. But the image was beautiful in a way he'd never imagined possible. There were very few people on this earth that could make the Phantom go speechless, but Lisa had risen to those ranks on his fist meeting with her and continued to attack his sensibilities in new ways. Tearing his eyes away from the image he looked at her, confounded as to how this was possible. He neither realized nor cared for the tears that had escaped his eyes.

"I'm an artist Erik, and I can use more than my eyes to see the world." She again extended her hand to the edges of his mask, but he made no move to stop her this time. Even the sudden touch of unfamiliar air on his twisted skin didn't cause him to reel as he always had when unmasked. Erik didn't know what to expect, but somehow he wasn't afraid. He felt something akin to anticipation as he watched all of the subtle changes to her expression as she examined him.

Lisa's face was only inches from his as her eyes scrutinized the odd contours of his visage, taking in the hidden details only close study could reveal. Then she kissed him, the same horrid flesh, her lips blessing the crooked angles of tissue that bulged and dipped unnaturally over his skull. He hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath, but when his lungs began to burn he had no choice but to fill them.

"This is you Erik, and only you. It is its own kind of masterpiece and you are the canvas. Most people are too wrapped up in hiding their own ugliness to recognize how beautiful someone like you is, inside and outside. I'm sorry Erik, on behalf of every person that mistakenly saw a monster instead of an angel." She kissed his lips again, and he wrapped his arms around her as they each took and received from the other.

"Make love to me Erik, please. Now in the light, I want to see you, all of you." She was afraid he'd refuse her when a glimpse of trepidation shown in his features and he fought the fight or flight instinct that had become his nature by need and circumstance. Making his decision he kissed her and gently pushed her to lie back on the carpet in front of the hearth. It all moved as slowly as molasses in January, as if time had ceased to affect them.

Erik slipped off his coat, undid the buttons of his vest, discarding it and the neck tie as well, leaving just his white starched shirt. He hesitated a moment, then pulled it from his trousers and over his head. He stopped while Lisa looked him over, taking in every scar that the lash, fire and other torture implements had left. She then rolled over to offer him the buttons of her dress. His fingers shook only slightly as he undressed her, peeling away all the constricting layers women wore and even removing the numerous pins that held up her curls. He placed everything in a neat pile with his own clothing, and took a small cushion from the nearby couch to support her head.

How was this happening? How could it be that they'd found each other, in spite of all the obstacles that would have kept them apart, especially their own fear and prejudices? Perhaps there were real angels urging and guiding both their lives to intersect. He knew he had one such angel that looked down from an unseen heaven, and perhaps she was trying to give him a taste of the Eden that she now inhabited. The idea gave him chills as much as the soft hands that were now tracing the lines of scars on his belly.

Lisa wanted to take everything she could from him. She knew it was selfish, but the depth of her pain allowed only the heat of her need to surface. She found the button of his pants, released it and the fastener. She pulled it as far down his hips as she could while sitting on the ground, then she reached in to touch his hardness. He grunted as she found him and drew out his length, stroking him lightly from base to tip before lowering her mouth to kiss the head and length. His inexperienced mind didn't have time to register what exactly she meant to do and stop her.

When he felt the warm wet heat of her mouth descend onto him he gasped and moaned. Erik threw his head back, grabbing the arm of the couch for support as she consumed him. Achingly slow she retracted her lips almost to his tip before taking him in again. The atmosphere around them seemed to oscillate in time with her movements.

Finally gaining enough control over himself he cupped Lisa's chin and urged her to relinquish his throbbing cock, then pushed her back onto the carpet. Erik was never one to concede mastery of any art to another. Two could play at this game, and quickly devising a plan of action he bent forward to kiss her mouth with such passion that she shook and whimpered when he moved to nibble down her chin and neck. His mouth found the breast he'd been caressing with his palm and laved the dark nipples in turn before suckling.

Erik settled on the rug next to her, pulling her flush against his side so that his erection pressed firmly into her hip. He entwined his legs with hers, pressing the thickest part of his thigh to her sex. Erik used his one free hand to fill his palm with Lisa's buttock. He massaged the flesh while moving her hips to grind slowly into the muscle of his leg.

Lisa was shocked at how quickly and intensely her yearning was building. When her excitement had reached the point where she was writhing to try and get closer to him he shifted position and moved down her body, leaving a trail of kisses and hot huffs across her smooth abdomen, making Lisa shutter.

His fingers never left her skin. While his mouth brought goose pimples to bloom all over, his hands sought to smooth them away. He stroked down her arms and flank, than rested on her hips before continuing down her thighs.

Erik pushed her legs gently to the sides while he knelt between them, looking down fixedly at her sex while he petted the tender flesh of her inner thighs. The plump lips of her secret mouth shimmered with moisture in the firelight, making Erik's mouth water with the thought of his intent.

He started with his thumbs, brushing them over the light tuft of hair masking her groin. Lisa couldn't hold back the need to rock forward and gain more contact with the fingers giving her such pleasure. When he started to push the petals of her flower apart to start fingering her labia, she arched her back and panted loudly.

She was so riveted by his seeking digits that she didn't register when he again shifted position onto his stomach. When Lisa felt his breath kiss her sex, she realized he meant to match her actions.

"Erik you don't have… oh my god." Was the last cognizant thought she could express as he kissed her secret lips. He lapped at her juices and inhaled her perfume deeply as he devoured her. She couldn't help the way she rotated her hips to meet the bombardment of his mouth. He knew what to do; somehow he knew everything she needed. Erik even cupped each cheek of her buttocks to hold her to him like a bowl of nectar.

Lisa could feel the tight coil of her impending climax and she tried to speak so as to beg him to take her but it came out as an inhuman grunt. He apparently got the picture and dislodged himself to move back up her body. He tried to make his ascent slow, but Lisa was tugging on his shoulders so urgently that he nearly dived into her. It was all she needed for the bubble of need inside her to burst in a million colors of starlight, and she screamed like a dying animal as even her fingers and toes curled. If asked she'd claim to have felt the strength of that release even in the tendrils of her hair.

Erik stopped, scared to death he'd harmed her, but only one look at the pure elation on her face told him that it was a good sign. His thudding into her kept the waves of her orgasm cresting over and over. She feared there was something wrong with her and wondered in the back of her mind if she was dying at long last from the unearthly power of love. Because she did love him, realizations that brought new tears to pool in her eyes and made her ravenously hungry to have him spill himself inside of her. When he did, moaning loudly enough to match her own cries she almost sang out her joy of it. He collapsed heavily atop her, and for a moment she thought he might have lost consciousness.

Erik found it difficult to return to reality. His climax had been violent in its intensity and he barely had the strength to roll off of Lisa. His face and body were so slick with sweat he felt the beads of it roll down his neck and torso. It was like the flames of the hearth had reached out and set them ablaze.

The only sound now was the raspy breathing of the lovers and the crackle of the diminishing fire. When he was finally able to gather enough fortitude to open his eyes he turned to look at Lisa. Her wide eyes were already staring at him. In their depths there he saw a new fire that shocked him. He pulled her to him and she settled comfortably against him.

"Thank you." She whispered against his neck.

"For what?" he barely managed to say.

"For everything." she snuggled as closely against him as she could; encasing him in her embrace as he did her in his.


	37. Chapter 37

CHAPTER 37

Erik didn't remember falling asleep, and when he felt the warm rays of sunlight on his face he sat up quickly. The fire had died and he was still on the floor naked, but he was alone. Lisa, her clothes, and the box of papers along with the sketch of his face were gone. He wanted to get up and run around the mansion to find her, but he knew that she was not there. The stillness around him was as definite as a tomb. He'd lost again, after all that he'd been through and accomplished.

Erik stood up on shaky legs as rage built within him and exploded. He threw furniture, punched holes in the walls and shattered windows as he sent worthless nick knacks flying. There was no balance in the universe to bring him so close to happiness again only to leave him flailing in emptiness. As his anger slowly gave way to grief he remembered the one thing, only thing that was and ever would be his, Gustave. Suddenly consumed with the need to see his child, Erik dressed and flew from the empty home.

Every ounce of his being was focused on getting home. It seemed only minutes had passed when he reached his residence. He burst into the front door and instinctively ran up the stairs, his long legs easily gaining 3 or 4 steps as he rose up them. When he opened the door he found a startled and obviously distraught Gustave perched on the edge of his bed. In his hand was a creased hand written note he'd been reading.

"She's gone, and she won't be back. And it's all my fault." Large tears streamed down the youth's face. Erik's curiosity was too much for patience or prudence. He moved forward and took the note from his son's trembling hands.

 _My dearest Gustave,_

 _Please don't be sad and know that I love you. You have become the best friend I've ever known and I am grateful for every second I was blessed to spend with you. It is you I will miss the most. I think it only fair you know something about me and maybe you will be able to understand better why I had to go away._

 _When Charles died I also lost the child I'd been carrying. In some way you became a substitute for that baby that was taken from me, and in consequence I took liberties in caring for you that were not my place too. I never meant to impose on your heart or life the way I did, but I know now I was desperate for the type of connection that only a child of my own could give._

 _Please forgive me and know that you are more special to me than any jewel of this world could ever be. I will always love you and hope that I can become a pleasant memory one day. Maybe fate might even bring us back together. You're an amazing young man and I hope to see you accomplish great things. Never be afraid to be all you can be and let your heart lead you._

 _Please tell your father I wish him the best and how very lucky you both are to have each other. He is an amazing man and sometimes has trouble seeing how truly wonderful he is. Cherish him as much as I know he does you. I will Cherish you both forever and you'll always own a part of my soul._

 _Love Lisa_

I have watched you fall  
through those tender years  
And every time I thought there must be more that I could do  
You found a light  
A different way out there in front of you

I am in your eyes  
Just that close to you  
and now I see your innocence against a troubled sky  
everything you once believed is now a question why  
it's ok

Don't lose your faith  
don't turn away  
everything that makes you who you are will not lead you astray

When it gets cold  
Too dark to see  
Reach in your soul and find me there,  
I'll always be  
Your constant angel

Who could ask the years  
to keep its truth from you  
there will be times you won't believe in much of anything  
that's when you'll find the grace of God in just surrendering  
its ok

Don't lose your faith  
don't turn away

Everything that makes you who you are will not lead you astray

When it gets cold  
Too dark to see  
Reach in your soul and find me there,  
Ill always be  
Your constant angel

In every prayer  
I am constantly there with you

Don't lose your faith  
don't turn away  
everything that makes you who you are will not lead you astray

When it gets cold  
Too dark to see  
Reach in your soul and find me there,  
I'll always be  
Your constant angel

Erik saw the tears dripping from the nose of his mask. He heard only the soft sobs of his son. Careful not to frighten him he sat down on the bed next to him and hugged him close. It was hard for him to speak, but he had to say something. Gustave needed to know that he was there to help and not burden him anymore.

"One thing I've learned in my time on this earth is that people do change. We are never the same person today that we were yesterday. Though that old person is still a part of us as we move forward, a new individual awakens with each new day. Sometimes those changes are subtle and almost unnoticeable; sometimes it comes from trauma and tragedy. Sometimes it's from moments of epiphany, great clarity or the dawn of understanding. Good people can become bad, and bad people can find their heart, maybe even redemption from the evil things they've done.

I'm not excusing my past, but I want you to know I am not that man anymore. When the change happened exactly I'm not sure, but I know how it began. It started when your mother came into my life and I first considered the possibility that even a monster can have a piece of heaven. But then I learned that to just touch that heaven for a moment the monster had to die. Darkness cannot exist in the face of light; it must succumb, especially if it aspires to be one with the inner light.

Then once I had a taste of it nothing about the world was ever the same. I made choices, and maybe I was wrong, but I did it out of love... and fear. I tried to tell myself I did the best thing for both of us when I left your mother. But I couldn't let go, I couldn't forget, and the memory became my food, my water, my every breath. It was what I felt when I tried to reach out with my hands, and it was the picture I saw when I opened my eyes. I could not live again knowing what I had left behind, and so I sought to know it again." Erik breathed deeply before going on.

Gustave pulled back and looked up into his father's face and saw the tears that had begun to stain both his skin and the painted cheek of his mask. For the first time since the night his mother died, the boy reached up slowly and removed it. Erik didn't move to stop him; he just kept looking down into the boy's face. It was perfect in every way, including the love he saw reflected there. His crying subsided as his attention was captured by what the man was saying.

"When I lured your mother across the sea, and yes it was I who was responsible for bringing her here, I told myself it was for one last performance. I could live the rest of my life with just one last taste of joy while knowing it would be my last. And yes, I admit there was a part of me that hoped there could be one last chance for us. I made my plans to seduce her with my world and my music as I had once done, but Christine had changed too.

She wasn't the girl I left asleep and dreaming of love. She was a woman, a wife, and a mother. She wanted none of what I offered, so I threatened her with the only thing I knew could touch her. I threatened to take you from her. Then I found out about you, that you were my son and not his. It was a miracle unlike any I'd dared to dream.

From that point on you were the reason and the purpose for our love, our lives. I dared to aspire to the possibility that I could have it all; a real and complete life in the light where I could forget all that I am and have been, and be the man that this face has stopped me from being. I thought I could have Christine, our music our child. In my folly I blinded myself to everything, including what was happening to Antoinette and Meg.

I made the same old mistakes and so I was repaid for all the life I'd taken. It's my entire fault and no one else's, I realize that now. I tried to orchestrate the world to serve myself, and I was punished even more for being the beast of the story. It seemed every life I touched was turned to ash, and now I had you to care for and I couldn't allow you to suffer for my sins. I had to protect you, for Christine and for myself. You would be my salvation. But I've failed. I failed you, and Christine, and now I've failed Lisa. It was right for her to run. She finally saw that twisted heart of the monster I really am and will always be. Your mother saw it once long ago; it's in my soul where the true distortion lies.

But I swear to you from this moment on I will not squander my blessings. I will honor them, and I will honor you. We must help each other through this and everything will be all right, I promise." Despite his continued sorrow Gustave smiled lovingly up to his father.

"I love you so much father." He said.

"And I love you son."

Together they started to try and leave the hurt behind and be thankful for having the love that they deserve.


	38. Chapter 38

CHAPTER 38

Almost a month had passed since their last night in NY, but the heaviness of sorrow was nowhere near abating. Kara and Lisa had made it to their southern destination without hindrance and were settled for their extended stay quickly. It had been many years since the bungalow in Destin, Florida had been used, but the caretaker had seen to it that it didn't fall into disrepair. Now they were here nestled on a secluded beach with palm trees swaying in the breeze, dolphins whistling out on the bay, and the sun shining through the windows.

Kara stood just within the door of the sunroom, watching Lisa's still form perched on the wooden stool. She noted the blank canvas on the easel and untouched color palate held lax in Lisa's hand. The quiet around her wasn't a calm lack of noise; it filled the space like a thick smoke, anxious and stifling. Kara's heart lurched to see the shimmering trail of a tear that had traveled down her friend's cheek.

This sorrow was not what she had wanted when she had encouraged Lisa to leave NY. This pain was not the outcome she'd expected when she'd heeded the recommendation of the Giry woman to get Lisa away from that masked man.

Lisa was not the kind of woman who was normally easily led by others in matters of the heart, but the loss of Mama Aguilar had weakened her will. When she'd reached out to Kara for comfort and counsel, the older woman had taken the opportunity to convince her it was best for everyone that she ends the relationship.

At first Kara had felt resolute about the rightness of breaking off their love affair. How could a man like that offer anything more than more suffering and heartache to any woman? Only now did she see clearly exactly what he'd given Lisa. One can always tell the effects of a broken heart in someone they care for.

Kara Sighed deeply as a guilty burden began to press down on her. When had she become so blind? For a long time she'd been lamenting the lonely life they'd been living, but then she remembered the dark days of pain and violation they'd experienced. When had she allowed fear to be her guide and guardian, and when had she decided that surviving was more important than love?

A muffled sob disturbed the emptiness. Lisa's head had fallen to her chest and her body was shuttering with barely repressed weeping. Kara knew that sound, it was the sound of a bleeding soul. She had to make it right somehow. Kara moved forward, allowing her steps to make enough noise to announce her presence. Lisa immediately straightened and brushed away the tears she'd shed. When Kara reached her Lisa wore the brave face her friend recognized as a mask to hide the hurt.

"What are you thinking about child?" asked the older woman.

"Thinking? I'm trying to think about what to paint; I'm trying to think about whether it will rain tonight, but all I can think about is how quiet it is. All I can think about is how much I want to hear someone play a piano. All I can think about is how 2 weeks feel like two hundred and wonder if I can survive the rest of my life. And the thought makes me sick to my stomach." Lisa said through a strangled voice. "But I'll be fine, don't you worry." She met Kara's eyes and did not like the worried look on her face. "I'm sorry, I'll be fine. It just takes time right?"

Kara reached over and pulled Lisa into a loving hug. In the warm comfort of her arms Lisa began again to cry her unrestrainable tears. Kara tried all she could to comfort her. She rubbed her arms and back and smoothed back her hair as she had when Charles had been killed. Suddenly Lisa leaped from the stool and ran from the room.

Kara thought she'd been overcome by her pain finally when she heard a retching sound from the nearby bathroom. As quickly as she could she ran to check on her friend, finding her bent over the bowl. A kind of motherly instinct kicked in and Kara suddenly noted the extra fullness of Lisa's hair, the stiffness of her breasts underneath the light shift she wore, and the extra radiance of her skin.

"Weren't you sick this morning too?" Kara asked. Lisa only nodded as she moved to the sink to rinse her mouth.

"Maybe it was the shrimp from Denton's. We should probably call them to ask if there have been any problems on their other deliveries." She said as she moved to pass Kara and return to the sunroom, but the older woman caught her hand to stop her.

"I think it's a better idea to call Dr. O'Neil and start making plans for going back to NY." Kara said softly. Lisa was floored and stood many moments with her mouth agape.

"NY, what for?" she asked.

"So you can tell Gustave he's going to be a big brother."


	39. Chapter 39

CHAPTER 39

The next few weeks saw a new burgeoning fellowship between father and son. They were able to discuss many of the things that had been too difficult and painful before Lisa. Erik had spent many long hours confessing the past to his son, who had accepted and understood it all without recrimination. In turn Gustave had replayed all the happiness he'd lived with his mother, being able to relive and recall many of the treasured moments that had begun to fade.

They were finally finding each other and Erik had spent more time in the light than ever he had. One early morning he'd even braved the Coney Island beach. Although it had been too cold to swim, Gustave showed renewed interest in wanting to learn to swim and his father actually volunteered to teach him.

It was when they'd returned from that outing that they discovered the first package waiting for them. It was heavy, wrapped in plain brown paper and tied with twine. It had arrived via the Wells Fargo wagon and had only one stamp from Panama City, Florida to hint at its origin, but there was nothing to hint at its sender until it was opened and the contents spilled over Erik's desk.

"Sand, it's a box of sand, from a beach I think. It's white and soft like sugar, not like the beaches here. Where could it have come from father? And look at this." asked Gustave. He'd sifted through the powdery grains and retrieved a sundried sand dollar and star fish.

"From the gulf coast of Florida in the south, it's said to be one of the most beautiful places in the states. Look, there's something else." Erik pinched a corner of paper that had popped up as Gustave continued to rummage through the sand, and as he extricated it they saw it was an unmarked envelope decorated with drawings of colorful fish.

Without knowing why, he felt his pulse quicken with the anticipation of opening it. Inside was one thick piece of parchment, and when he saw what it showed he knew exactly who had sent it. It would be hard to hide the document from Gustave, who was looking at him expectantly.

"Look, there's writing on the back. I think it's in Lisa's hand!" Gustave bounded around the table to get a look at the paper, and when Erik turned it over they read it together.

 _My Dearest Friends,_

 _I hope my parcel finds you both well. It might be a surprise to hear from me so soon, but I find I can't stop thinking of you. I was watching a sunset sink into the sea today and found myself wishing you were here to see it with me so I've sent you a bit of it. For me, I hear a very strange music in the setting sun. If I am intruding once again, I understand that you might want to destroy this modest gift. If not, I hope you enjoy a bit of Florida._

 _Lisa_

Gustave could not repress a smile as he finished the letter. He took the paper from his father and turned it over to see a charcoal sketch of a sunset that had been accented with colored pencils. Erik wanted to be as angry with Lisa now as he had been on the morning he'd awoken to find her gone, but instead his heart beat warmly to know that she was thinking of them.

She was in Florida. Erik couldn't help mentally calculating the distance and time to arrive by train before catching himself. He would not go chasing after her. She had chosen to leave and now she was reaching out to them. He would let this play out.

Another two weeks had elapsed when another parcel arrived. This one was stamped with New Orleans postage. Inside were a small comical stuffed gator among handfuls of plastic beads and gaudy glass bobbles. Once again there was a drawing, this time depicting a long parade of outlandishly dressed partyers marching down a brightly lit city lane. The note read:

 _They'll use any excuse for a party in the French Quarter. I was lucky enough to witness this funeral and dance among the mourners._

Less than two weeks later they received the third package from Charleston, NC. It had a sketch of an old Victorian style mansion guarded by several white and blue iridescent peacocks. There was no note this time, but Gustave treated the package like it contained gold and priceless gems. But Erik, always looking for the angle, considered the obvious progression these deliveries indicated.

Lisa was heading north, and if he were to predict her travels she'd be in NY very soon. The letters and gifts might be more openly for his son, but she was also sending him a message. She was giving him warning of her impending return.

Erik didn't know how to take this realization. It would be terribly hypocritical of him to blame her for having done what she'd felt needed to be done, but could he or should he accept her if she tried to rekindle the relationships they'd had? Had it ever really ended anyway?

Gustave collected the three drawings from Lisa and kept them safely pressed in the pages of his music portfolio. As the collection grew he told his father that they needed to be properly placed in frames. Erik frowned at the suggestion, though he secretly yearned to see them set elegantly in silver or gold. The boy looked at him with those eyes which he found so difficult to refuse and acquiesced.

The next evening Gangle took them to a gallery in midtown to have the work done. The place was in the middle of an exhibition of local artists, so there were well to do people casually perusing the art displayed while sipping at an endless supply of champagne. Erik had grown leaps and bounds when it came to his ability to withstand such an environment, but he still felt remarkably uncomfortable among the populace.

Normally he would have sent his servant, but Gustave would not be parted with the drawings and had insisted his father come to pick the frame. He left it to the young man to speak with a worker on the subject while he absently strolled through the shop looking at the paintings and sculptures.

After a few moments of not really looking at the mediocre creations he approached the rear of the large room. A small group was gathered there, including Gustave who had been looking for Erik among the patrons.

There, on the center of the back wall, a place always used to display the best work, was a three paneled painted rendition of Coney Island. Erik and Gustave both gawked at the beautiful landscape that depicted their beloved island, and set as its focus were the attractions of Phantasma.

Erik especially noted the detail with which the boardwalk had been painted, even with a small black figure perched atop his theatre. There was no tag or moniker for the piece, but neither of them had to look for the artist's signature to know who'd been responsible.

Erik was filled mania, and turned to scan the small crowd of attendees for a pair of emerald eyes. Gustave too had begun to look about heatedly for some sign of Lisa. At that moment the curator, a short thin man who'd been meandering around the gallery and speaking to art enthusiasts, approached them.

"So, are you gentleman interested in putting in a bid for this piece? So far the bidding is up to $580, quite a success. What can I put you down for Mr.…?"

"I'll double whatever the highest bid is." replied Erik.

"Well, well, well, I don't think that will be necess…" he tried to say, but Erik interrupted him.

"I'm not concerned with what you think. I want the bidding closed and will give you my address for delivery." The small man tried to dispute, but when the sharp eyes of Erik's masked face pierced him he hesitantly agreed. He collected the information and payment from squelch, but before he could withdraw Erik called to him in a very different tone.

"It would of course be a special treat to know or even meet the artist. Do you think you could arrange that for someone very interested in becoming a sponsor?" Erik's voice was silky as he spoke, and the man stood rapt but took a moment to consider the request before answering.

"Well, the artist had asked to remain anonymous…" said the curator. It was a small movement, but when Erik shifted position he seemed to somehow grow taller and looked down at the little man with as commanding a stare as he could exude. The curator seemed to somehow shrink even more, and taking a step back ran into Squelches solid form. "Err, but perhaps I could arrange something for such a generous contributor." He squeaked.

"I do appreciate that." And with that the startled man scurried off. A few moments later he returned with a small paper.

"It seems we don't have a name for the artist, the exhibition was arranged through a lawyer's office, but I was able to acquire an address. Apparently they were part of a private collection the owner is trying to sell off."

He handed the slip to Erik who only glanced at it before crumbling it and depositing the remains into the curator's breast pocket. Without another word, he placed his hand on Gustave's shoulder to lead him out of the gallery.

The boy wanted to scream for his father to tell him what was on the paper, but held tentative control of his curiosity until they'd reached the curb. His father, wearing a vaguely amused look on his face, gave his son one small nod to acknowledge what he knew the boy was hoping for. They climbed into the notorious horseless carriage and directed the driver to a very familiar residence.


	40. Chapter 40

CHAPTER 40

Erik instructed Gangle to make his way to the smaller side gate of the manor instead of pulling up to the front drive. He didn't want to push the buzzer or knock on the door and give Lisa the opportunity to avoid them. He wanted to find her like he had those other times, like a wraith in the shadows of the large house, waiting to be discovered.

When they pulled up to the gate it was immediately obvious things had changed. The moon shone brightly on what was now a lawn free of excess vegetation. The jungle that had added such character and mystery to the property had been cut away and fresh sod had been laid in its place. Manicured topiary's and artful sculptures were visible through the iron bars.

Erik and Gustave stared for many seconds. Erik had expected they would have to climb the wall to gain entrance, but when the boy tried the latch it was unlocked. The circumstances were making them both more nervous than they already were, but Erik's spirit was committed to seeing this games end finally played out.

They both made no sound as they entered and approached the building. It was apparent that Gustave had also inherited Erik's penchant for stealth, a thought that made him smile inside. The grounds were silent except for the constant gurgling of the stone fountain only a few yards away.

With the path cleared it was now easy to view the entirety of the structure as they came nearer, and they both saw that a lone window shone with the light of a lamp. It was the same window they both knew was Lisa's. Without having to discuss it they understood that room was their destination.

The side door was locked, but Erik's skill at home invasion made short work in getting it open and soon they were walking down the hall towards the stairs. So far everything inside was just as they remembered it. They passed the music room and library, whose doors were ajar, revealing the familiar décor inside.

When the stairs came into view all other thoughts and concerned disappeared from their minds, and they were so focused that they nearly missed the dark figure that emerged from the opposite side of the foyer to intercept them.

Kara had heard the sound of the carriage wheels moving along the street and been alerted when they'd stopped. She instinctively knew who it had to be, and when there'd been no sound from the buzzer or knocker she knew how they would be coming so she'd waited for them to appear.

When they finally saw her, both stopped midstride and just looked at her like she was a ghost. Kara welcomed the warmth she felt as she looked at the young boy, but she was unprepared for the relief she felt in seeing the masked man. After a tense moment, she moved forward and opened her arms to offer Gustave her embrace. The boy didn't waste a moment in accepting it. He quickly took the few steps separating them and was enfolded in her arms.

"Welcome back." She said softly, and Gustave chuckled lightly at her words. After a few more seconds they released each other and Kara looked to Erik. "It's about time. We've been back a week already. I was beginning to think I'd have to sneak a letter to alert you of our return." Erik shifted uneasily on his feet.

"She could have sent for us." He stated flatly, trying to keep any emotion from his voice.

"Now you know that woman is as stubborn as they come. When undecided her whole world comes to a standstill, but when she gets an idea in her head there's no stopping her, as you've discovered." She ended. Kara stepped back and made a grand gesture with her hand for them to ascend the stairs.

Gustave didn't hesitate to start his climb, leaving Erik and Kara alone for a moment at the bottom. Neither spoke, but there was an exchange as they regarded each other that both accepted as a peace offering.

Erik turned to follow Gustave, who had stopped at the landing to wait for him. He wanted to include his father in what he pictured to be a grand and loving reunion; it had not occurred to him that the situation was more complicated than he was able to understand.

They approached the door to Lisa's suite slowly and found the doors to be open. It was uncharacteristic of her, they both knew. Gustave looked inside without breaching the threshold. It was the first time he'd seen Lisa's room.

The space was nearly double the size of the guest room he'd previously occupied. It had a much larger bed dominating the right side, flanked by 2 nightstands with lamps. To Gustave's left was a large fireplace whose small fire was dwindling. The far wall had 3 of the manor's characteristic windows framed with deeply violet curtains, and before each window stood an easel, a writing desk, and a daybed.

Owing to its proximity to the ballroom, Erik figured it was originally meant to be a lounge, but had been converted for use as a bedroom. It was comfortable and inviting like the rest of the house, but it was also empty.

Gustave was the first to hear the subtle vibration of someone humming. The sound led his eyes to look back down to the hall they had passed. With Erik in tow, Gustave moved to turn at the corner. Another door stood ajar to the room that neighbored Lisa's quarters, and a light shone from inside.

The pair stopped just before reaching the entrance, and in unison took a deep breath. As soon as they stepped forward she came into view. The area was vacant of any furnishing, and the walls were covered with new lavender wall paper. The room was being prepared for something, as was the rest of the manor based on the changes they'd seen so far.

It made Erik feel even more aloof. He didn't want to invest too much of himself in the hopes that she'd really come back to them and then be disappointed. After all, she'd been here for some time and not tried to contact them. Even the mysterious gifts had ceased.

Lisa sat in the center of the small space drawing furiously in a sketch book. She was so engrossed in what she was doing that she didn't notice them right away. Gustave crept up and kneeled down next to her before she was aware of his presence.

The initial look on her face was shock, but it very quickly turned to elation. She rose up on her knees and pulled him roughly into a tight hug. Her eyes were squeezed shut, but tears still managed to escape down her cheeks. When Lisa opened her eyes she saw the man standing just inside the door like a phantom.

Erik felt comforting warmth spread through his body when their gaze connected. He was calm and still inside. The anxiety, trepidation and anger he'd been holding onto seemed to dissipate as he was being filled up inside. He didn't understand what it meant because he'd never experienced anything like it before, even with Christine.

Lisa watched Erik with unblinking eyes while holding on to Gustave. She knew the moment she let go of the boy she'd have to face what she'd done, face him, and whatever uncertain future waited. Lisa wasn't afraid. After all she'd withstood in her life, she knew that she'd be able to deal with and acceptance the consequences of her actions. Her only concern was how Erik and Gustave would react.

"I knew you'd come back. I knew you loved us too much to stay away for long." The two friends stood from the floor.

"Oh my goodness, you've grown!" she said, trying to avoid the impact his statement had made. The young man chuckled as she reached out to caress his cheek. Gustave now stood eye to eye with her and his face was starting to express the sharp angles of impending adulthood. Could so much have changed in just a few weeks?

"Yes, soon I'll be taller than father." At this the man stepped forward. In the past Lisa had always found it easy to get a read on what Erik was feeling, but she found herself at a loss. Her own emotions were just too raucous to be credible. Erik's expression was steely as he looked on her. It was a perfect mirror of the mask's cold demeanor.

"Hello Madam Faolan. It's a pleasure to see you again." Carefully, as if he were afraid to startle her, Erik collected her hand and kissed the knuckles.

"Thank you." She replied with a pained whisper, but then she turned sharply back to Gustave and breaking the free of the awkward moment. "I have a load of gifts for you, though I wasn't prepared to deliver them yet. Why don't we go to my room and we can discover them together."

"Wonderful! I kept all the presents you sent." Gustave immediately went into an excited outpouring of all that had gone on since Lisa's departure, both in the park and their personal lives.

She made special note about what was going on with the Giry's. Madam Giry had taken her option to open her own studio and with the generous number of references sent to Chicago society, she and her daughter were already inundated with students. The dance mistress seemed very well situated and pleased to be reunited with her daughter.

Meg was no longer dancing in the nightclubs of the city and had her own position at the studio teaching modern dance. Though it may not have been the happy ending they'd envisioned long ago, but it seemed the world had now turned in their favor.

Gustave went on and on as they sifted through the bags in Lisa's room and a small pile of treasures built. When they were done, the boy looked at her with questioning eyes.

"What about father is there anything to him?" Lisa looked up at the silent sentinel who'd been watching the, reflexively placing her hands over her abdomen.

"Yes, but we can get to that later." Gustave didn't look satisfied with Lisa's answer and was about to say so when Erik spoke up.

"I think it's very late and we should be getting home." He said. Lisa provided a satchel for Gustave to take his present's home and escorted them to the gate, where Gangle waited with Kara. They'd been talking animatedly and were both wearing rather awkward grins as the group approached.

Gustave gave out one last set of hugs before climbing into the carriage. Erik only nodded, once to Lisa than to Kara, before joining his son. As she watched the vehicle disappear down the road and turn a corner Lisa felt as if a light was put out.


	41. Chapter 41

CHAPTER 41

 _Who am I… what am I… why was I the one cursed, both with the face of a monster and the soul of a man who could not accept his fate?_

It wasn't the first time Erik had muddled over those questions. Heaven and hell on earth, that's the conundrum he faced every day of his existence. Could he really choose one or the other for himself?

The piano sat still and silent in Erik's room. His hands were settled on the keys and a partially completed piece of music was spread out over the surface. Not one note had resonated from the instrument since he'd settled there after dinner and saying a quick good night to his son.

It had been an interesting kind of day, to put it lightly. Erik still wasn't sure if he was doing the right thing, especially taking into account the impact his decision would have on the boy. He didn't want to disappoint or hurt Gustave, neither did he want to put them both in a position to be deceived or used.

Minutes ticked by. Aloneness; solitude; aloofness, weren't these his trademarks?

Silence: the music would not come, though he could feel it like an insistent hum coming from the base of his skull or held in his throat. Stillness: the music would not come, like it was waiting, impatiently pushing for a decision and resolution that had to be reached.

Hadn't he learned to be lonely, as the man always looking in on life and dreaming of the chance to live, but never able or capable of attaining it; hadn't that been the lesson of his life, taught to him over and over by various moments of pain and horror?

Emptiness: the music would not come. There has to be an end to this, and he couldn't wait any longer for it to just happen. Committing himself to the final chapter of another ill-fated love affair Erik stood from his piano and left his home.

Outside the blanket of night lay thickly over the city. Even though the sky was clear and the moon glowed brightly, it seemed no light touched the ground. Had the celestial bodies of heaven forsaken him at last, and the night with all its magic and music been robbed from him?

Very soon, he would know.

The smell of the paint and the act of stroking a canvas with her brush was always soothing and comforting. Whether she was sad, angry, anxious or afraid, Lisa found respite in her art. She'd finally settled on the images to decorate the small room and begun the intoxicating process of bringing her vision to life. It never failed to amaze Lisa how the organization of simple shapes and colors could transform any surface into a window to her own mind.

Her thoughts, fantasies and memories had all been recorded in either pencil sketches or painted canvases. The box Erik had seen on their last night together held more than just his picture. Hidden safely within it were all the terrifying images of the day she'd lost her father, husband, and unborn child. They didn't exist for casual viewing, but for her to have an outlet of remembering… and forgetting.

But there were happy times too, and this room would be a representation of that. The faces of people who'd meant so much to her would not be forgotten and would be here to live on for future generations. Lisa wanted to make sure of that, and she wanted every tear shed from then on to be filled with hope.

Lisa was absent from the world as she worked on the walls of the small room that adjoined her bedroom; the quiet stillness of the house had allowed her to disconnect and retreat into her inner universe. She was totally oblivious to the new presence that had stopped to watch her from the doorway until it spoke.

"What is that?" he said. Lisa jumped at the sudden sound, but she instantly recognized it.

"It's a mural." She replied without turning.

"Why are you painting a mural in here?" he asked. Lisa swallowed hard against the dryness in her throat.

"I appreciate you bringing Gustave here. I wasn't sure he'd want to see me again. I'm sure I caused him pain when I left, but he's always been very forgiving." She said casually.

"Something he inherited from his mother, not me." He replied sharply, and it made Lisa flinch.

"Well, thank you anyway. I'm sorry I didn't contact you when I returned, but I've had a lot to do since I got back… I didn't want to impose myself after the way I left."

"Do you think that is a suitable excuse? That you didn't have time." he interjected, his voice becoming more touched with anger, frustration and hurt.

"No, of course not; I just didn't want you to think that I expected…" she tried.

"Expected what, everything to be like it was?" he accused.

"No, I know things can never go back to how they were." She responded sadly. Erik was deflated. Was she saying that it was over for them too? He'd told himself that he had come here for answers and wasn't looking for validation that she still cared for him, but his spirits fell at her words nonetheless.

Only now did Lisa turn to face the man. He'd been taking slow steps into the room as he'd spoke, and was only a few feet from her when she set eyes on him. Lisa had an immediate impulse to run to him and be gathered into his embrace, but the look on the visible side of his face was far from inviting.

Erik stood rigid before her, making the most of his imposing height as he had often done when trying to intimidate. She'd never before been harrowed by it, especially when she realized it was more a defensive than offensive trait. But she did feel his formidable presence bearing down on her like she was a cornered cat.

"What are you saying; that you don't want anything to do with us anymore; is that why you didn't come to us?" he asked. A cold resolve seeping into his words.

"Erik, please, this is very difficult for me." She tried.

"Well let me make it easy." He turned back and took a step towards the door, but Lisa rushed forward and grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Please don't leave. I don't want you to leave. Don't you understand that I love you, and I can't stop loving you even if you don't want me?" Lisa immediately regretted her outburst. Revealing her feelings gave him all the power. He could break her right then and there if he so chose and it would be worse than if she'd never returned.

Lisa hated the feeling of desperation that had risen inside of her and turned away sharply rather than face any recrimination in his eyes. She looked out the small window into the deepening night. The moon shone brightly and with the thick foliage gone the bright green of the lawn shimmered like an expanse of still water.

She tried to focus on the beauty of the night outside and calm the raging emotions inside her. She unclenched her hands and placed them protectively on her abdomen, as if she could shield that warm place inside from the pain that she was sure was coming.

Erik was floored. To have heard those words only twice before in his life, first from Christine and then from Gustave, had been more that he could have ever expected for a monster like himself. He approached her lightly until they stood only inches apart.

He could smell the familiar lilac flavor of her shampoo and the lingering aroma of the paint oils. There was the faintest indication that she was shaking by the way her hair glinted in the light from the lamp. Erik wanted to touch her, to feel the solid reality of her form against his own.

He lifted his hands forward and barely touched each of Lisa's extended elbows before traveling the length of her arms and settling each of his hands over hers. The movement encased her in his heat, causing every nerve ending of Lisa's skin to tingle.

"How can I believe what you say?" the question was just a whisper near her right ear. Acting only on instinct and without saying a word Lisa lifted his palm and brought it to rest over her heart. Erik could feel the wild beating of the organ like the fluttering of a caged bird.

With a rush of need Erik pulled Lisa flush against him and planted kisses in her hair before she was able to turn and offer him her lips. Her sweetness filled his senses while her softness molded itself to the long lines of his body.

Lisa had never forgotten what his kisses felt like, but it felt like years had passed since she'd last felt them. He was frantic with kissing her, her lips, her eyes, her cheeks and ears. There wasn't a place he didn't bless by the time Lisa realized he was saying something over and over against her skin.

"I love you. I love you. I love you."

Lisa flung her own around Erik's neck, holding him tightly and burying her face in the crook of his neck. She was squeezing him so strongly that the edge of his mask begun to dig into her cheek. When she pulled back to look into his eyes he saw the imprint it had left in her flesh.

Feeling an imperative that was as foreign to him as the situation he reached up, lifted the mask, and removed it. Erik looked into Lisa's sparking eyes to gauge her reaction, because in his mind no person could ever get used to seeing such a horror. As she looked at him a wide toothy smile spread over her face, glowing and gleaming with a joy he'd never thought could be for him.

He thought of the day when he'd come to the mansion with Gustave and how she'd beamed at seeing the boy. This was that same look, but now it was his. He felt himself smiling back, so fully and wide that it made his face feel strange.

When he lowered his mouth to resume his kisses she stopped him.

"Erik, there's something else I must tell you." His smile fell as he braced himself for the veil of happiness to be pulled away, but Lisa only kept smiling up at him. "This room..." she hesitated. He looked around, trying to guess what she was finding so difficult to say.

"Yes, what is this room for?" he asked. Lisa took a very deep breath before answering.

"It's a nursery." She said on a fast exhale. Erik's head snapped back to question her.

"For whom?" he asked. Lisa let out a slightly incredulous sigh in response to his question.

"Well, I'm not sure yet. I won't know if it's a boy or girl until I give birth. I might have to change the color than."

Erik didn't know if he could handle anymore revelations after this. Could the impossible have now happened twice?

"When, how?" He asked, still in shock.

"It was probably that last night before the fire. If you don't remember how I'll try my best to jog your memory." And with that she lifted herself up on tip toe to kiss her love. He responded enthusiastically and soon they were both swaying on the spot.

When they finally came up for air, Erik hooked his fingers around the straps of her overalls and pulled them down Lisa's arms until they dangled at her sides. Lisa's skin prickled with sudden anticipation, and when Erik began trailing kisses down her middle till he was on his knees Lisa could barely breathe.

Erik laid the mask on the ground next to him. As gently as if he were handling a Faberge egg, he tugged Lisa's shirt from the overalls until he exposed her midriff. It was like finding gold to him. He peppered her belly with tender kisses before closing his eyes and pressing his face against her to feel the warmth of the woman who was carrying his child.

He thought of Christine and how he'd missed her pregnancy with Gustave. The boy had told him what he'd been told. That it along with his birth had been a trying time, and due to complications resulting from that pregnancy she'd never been able to bare another child. Erik wondered if it would have been different had he been there to take care of her.

"You're thinking of them aren't you?" Lisa spoke softly while she stroked his cheek lovingly. Erik gave only the barest of nods in response. "I'm thinking of Charles too. I hope he is happy where ever he is, and Christine too."

Her words were enough to open the flood gates. The moisture Erik had been fighting erupted and he wept freely, his tears soaking Lisa's belly. When he'd managed to compose himself he released her and pulled something out of his pocket.

"I have something for you. I would have preferred to fashion one on my own, but I didn't have time so I bought this today with Gustave's help. I hope you find it suitable." He presented her with a small gold box, intricately etched with a curling design. When he opened it she saw the bright green of a large emerald set into a gold ring and sitting on red velvet.

Lisa was almost sure she was dreaming. That she was back in Florida asleep on the sunroom lounge and fantasizing about a reunion with Erik and Gustave. If it was a dream she was going to refuse to wake up. She didn't have to say anything. Erik pulled the jewel from its nest and fixed onto her waiting finger.

"I suppose you'll want a proper ceremony in a church with priest and a host of parishioners." He said with diffidence. She hadn't even thought that far, but the consideration made her snicker.

"We can go wake the catholic priest right now if you prefer. As long as the people most important to us are there it doesn't matter to me."

They didn't make it to the church that night, so the good father kept his good night's sleep. But neither Erik nor Gustave ever spent another night alone, and the phantom was finally laid to rest forever more.


	42. EPILOGUE

EPILOGUE

He wasn't that old, but getting up the stairs to their box at the Metropolitan Opera seemed like more of a trial every time. Had it been any other production the man would have just rather stayed at the mansion enjoying music in the privacy and comfort of his own home, but this was no ordinary performance.

Already the excited murmurs of the audience filled the large auditorium, overtaking even the shrill sounds of the orchestra as they tuned their instruments. Every seat was filled, from the front row to those farthest back in the mezzanine. From their box, the closest to the stage, Erik and Lisa could see that all the other boxes were also overflowing with as many patrons they could fit.

Once they were settled, Erik sat back in his chair with as confident an air of tranquility as he'd ever exuded; meanwhile his wife was practically vibrating with excitement. Looking over the boxes edge, a very improper thing for most people, but Lisa cared as much about propriety as she did for politics. When she was satisfied that the man charged with recording the concert was in place she settled back, waiting impatiently for the curtain.

Erik reached over and collected her gloved hand into his own, drawing her near giving her a lingering kiss. Like water on a fire, her twitching ceased and she devoted herself to his attention. After 20 years of marriage there was very little he didn't know about his beloved, both inside and out, or vice versa.

Some men might have grown bored with such familiarity, but for him it just showed how much more amazing this woman was with each passing day. But he had to admit that familiarity didn't mean predictability. It was an aspect of their lives that kept things fresh. The thought made him laugh into their kiss.

"Why are you laughing at me?" she asked, trying to sound irked.

"I'm not laughing at you, Mon Cher." He said, still chuckling.

"Well you're definitely not laughing with me since I didn't make a joke. So what do you find so amusing?" she said, pulling her hand free and crossing them on her lap. Erik turned in his seat and leaned toward her while placing his other arm around her shoulders.

"I was just thinking about all the things I could do to you in this box." He whispered silkily, causing goose pimples to sprout on the woman's skin. She responded by raising one eyebrow and giving her husband a scrutinizing stare. They liked this game, and she would have been happy to let him win, but not tonight.

"Well you'll just have to keep imagining. Last time you had thoughts like that the manager nearly had us arrested." She said, trying to sound scolding, but unable to hide the self-satisfied smirk the memory evoked. Her husband mirrored that same grin, feeling nonplussed about the comment.

"I wasn't the one moaning like a banshee in the middle of Shakespeare." He teased. The blush that blossomed on the woman's cheek was very pleasing to him.

"Look, I…" she started, but as the house lights began to dim Erik shushed her and turned his full attention to the stage and musicians pit.

When the conductor took his position, the entire auditorium gave him a thunderous applause, but none were louder than Erik's clapping. The Maestro below heard and looked up to see his proud parents. He gave them a knowing wink and set to work.

The music blossomed expertly under Gustave's masterful direction as the actors filled the stage and the opera began. It was a revival of an Old Italian drama that the management had imported along with a number of performers from the old world.

The company had fled the horrors of a pre-war Europe and had been given asylum. Among them was a famous soprano who'd been slated to open the production, but she'd become mysteriously sick. Now the young woman that had been the Met's understudy for 2 seasons was getting the chance to debut her talent. A talent many said that was the best kept secret on the NY stage.

As the ingénue's voice rose and fell with perfect clarity and exquisite beauty over the gathering. Bringing tears to the eyes of men and women alike, the young actress conveyed the femme fatale's longing and humiliation with such passion that even those who didn't speak a syllable of Italian could not escape the music's meaning.

When the last notes of the final aria were sung and the curtain fell, the audience gave what seemed like unending ovations. As the lead performers came out for the curtain call, the young prima donna received one last standing ovation from her adorers. Scores of brightly colored flowers were tossed onto the stage, but the only one that caught the young woman's notice was the single dark crimson rose that flew from the box closest to her from stage left.

She along with the conductor looked into the shadowed confines of the opera box to see the white porcelain mask that seemed to float in the darkness. They knew beneath it a man was smiling; a father, a teacher, a mentor and angel of music that had touched their lives with love and magic.

It wasn't on the program or announced on the bill. So when the conductor raised his baton once again to lead the orchestra everyone was surprised. There had been made a special agreement with the management, director and producers to allow a special treat. The young diva stepped forward as the other performers left the stage.

"Ladies and gentleman, it is my greatest delight to present for your pleasure an encore performance in recognition and honor of this theaters greatest contributor." She said.

Erik looked down on his children with confused eyes. A name had not been given for the benefactor or piece of music they were to be singing, but when he looked into Lisa's glowing eyes and the song began he knew exactly what was going on.

It was his song from so many years ago; his crowning achievement that he'd written for his lost angel. Christine had been the only one to ever sing that song, and only once. The memory had faded somewhat over time and as he'd gotten older, but his heart had always clung to it whenever he needed help.

As he heard his daughter say the words and fill the room with her voice, Erik thought he could feel Christine's presence wrapped around his family. It filled him with a new level of joy and happiness that he'd never imagined possible.

As a little girl his daughter Gloria Christine Destler, had often commented that she had two angels that watched over and played with her. It took only one look of understanding between him and Lisa to know who the elegant woman and the handsome sailor were.

Now here she was, bringing a lost part of his soul back to life for one night. Erik sat stock still as the song ended and the gallery erupted in applause even more thunderous than their first ovation. It seemed to last half the night as Gloria and Gustave gave bow after bow to their adoring fans. Heaven on earth; someway and somehow it had found them. No, he did not deserve it, but the many lives entangled with his did, and it was only because of their love that he was a part of it.

As the young woman disappeared into the wings and the orchestra pit was emptied, Erik and Lisa waited in the box holding each other. A short time later there was a delicate knock and the door opened cautiously, just in case the lovers inside were up to their old games.

"Mama, Papa, can we come in." asked Gloria tentatively.

"Of course Mi Amor." exclaimed Lisa, rising to embrace her children.

"Did you like it Papa, was it good enough?" she asked the man.

"It was pure perfection my dear." He said opening his arms wide to accept the young ladies hug, but instead she plopped down in his lap like a little girl.

"And did you like the song, was it alright that I sang it? Gustave said you would like it." She asked.

"Yes mon petit, it was the greatest gift you could have ever given me a part from you smile." He replied, touching her warm cheek with his long fingers. Gloria responded with a wide grin then reached up and unceremoniously removed the white porcelain mask before planting adoring kisses on her father's beloved face.

"I really do hate when you wear that thing. It gives me the shivers, and you're much to handsome a man to need it anyway." She said as she cuddled close to her father's chest. Lisa and Gustave just laughed at the familiar sight. If ever there was a real life representation of daddy's little girl, this was certainly it.

"And did you see little Marguerite in the chorus line? Do you think Madam Giry will be ok with her performing as such a young age?" she asked.

"Meg gave her permission so that was good enough. Though I'm sure she's disappointed her mother and grandmother couldn't make it for her debut, especially with Garret off to fight in Europe."

"A little I think, but she said they would have made her more nervous anyway." remarked Gloria before jumping up to peer over the Opera boxes ledge.

"Looking for anybody in particular sis." said Gustave teasingly, because he knew full well whom she searched for. Gloria turned back to her family with an incredulous stare.

"I hope you don't mean that petulant violinist?" asked Erik annoyingly.

"I somehow doubt he'll be running up to congratulate you while your father's here." commented Lisa, repressing a snicker. Gloria raised and lowered her hands dramatically to express her frustration.

"What do you expect when father scares the daylights out of any man that shows any interest in me?" she said sulkily, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Which is my duty as your father; one that I plan on doing till the day I die." Erik said, feeling very proud of himself.

"At which point I take over." added Gustave.

"You, if it were up to you I'd die an old maid." She said before thinking. Instantly they were all reminded of a recent loss. After a few unguarded moments Lisa spoke up.

"Kara would have loved to be here. She was always so proud of her." It was hard to hold back the tears of grief for all of them. Gloria ambled over to her mother and plopped down just as comfortably in her lap as she had in her fathers and hugging her close as they both shed silent tears for the loss of a great friend.

"Well, I think it's time you two met one last time with your adoring public so that we can have dinner." Lisa said, dislodging her daughter and getting up to leave.

"Do you really think they adored me? Do you think there will be people out there waiting for my autograph?" said Gloria. No one answered, but they all laughed heartily at the glamorous way she began strutting out the door and down the ramp with her family in tow.

"I'll see you in the car, and keep an eye on her." Erik said to Gustave as he turned away from the ramp to the stairs that led to an alley where Gangle waited. Lisa was right behind him.

"Don't you want to witness Gloria posing for all those pictures and drowning in flowers." He asked his wife.

"That part means a lot more to her than to me. I don't think I could be any prouder as it is, of both of them." She said.

"Yes, if only Christine was here." Erik remarked, a wistful look in his eye. The two of them disappeared into the stairwell and were soon stepping into their chauffeured automobile. But before they could pull out Lisa asked Gangle to give them a few moments of privacy. She looked at her husband, once again removing the mask he'd put back in place.

"Do you regret your life with me?" she asked suddenly. Erik stared back, surprised at such a question.

"Of course not; how can I regret a miracle." He replied.

"I… I'm sorry… that I'm not her." She said sadly. Erik was taken aback. Lisa had never before expressed any level of resentment about his angel, but now he read a kind of guilty shame in her words.

"Should I be sorry for not being Charles?" he asked, wiping a tear that had rolled down her cheek.

"Never, it's just that…" she started, but could not finish as fresh tears erupted from her eyes.

"Hear me. I will always love Christine, just as I know you will always love Charles, but I stopped being haunted by what might have been the moment I found you. It doesn't help either of us waste time looking back or even looking forward to an unknown future. We have each other right here and right now and that is heaven on earth."

"Wow. Who'd have thought you'd turn out to be the optimist." She joked, leaning forward to kiss him. In no time at all they were lost in each other; it nearly an hour later when they collected the children from the theater entrance.


End file.
